


if you truly wish to be

by mingowow



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fantasy, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Idol Verse, M/M, Narnia AU, universe jumping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15851460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingowow/pseuds/mingowow
Summary: The chronicles of best friends and roommates, Minghao and Mingyu. And their peculiar wardrobe.





	1. take a look

**Author's Note:**

> first off: thank you so much to L for being wonderful, supportive, and the kindest friend a person could ask for. you are truly the best!!! and thank you to C for helping polish this thing up.
> 
> and a big thanks to all the awesome folks at gyuhaonet! i'm glad we have a place for such a wonderful, lovely pair of boys.
> 
> i hope you enjoy reading this!

It's nice to feel like things are back in order.

Truthfully, it didn't make a _huge_ deal who Minghao was roommates with. He gets along with everyone obviously and he doesn't think he's a particularly picky about who he has to share his space with. As long as it's not Dokyeom, he not so secretly can’t handle the constant singing, forgotten food debris, and occasional sleep talking.

That being said, he definitely has his favorites: he likes rooming with Jeonghan because he's rather quiet and rests a lot when he can (and both of them hated sleeping with the air conditioner on). Vernon is also a good option because they have always been close and he is so chill that nothing seems to bother him; he's also one of the most considerate members when it comes to sharing a living space. 

(And yeah, of course it had been nice having his own private space for a while; it was a literal escape from their daily lives and a great place to recharge, but damn if he hadn’t gotten a little lonely sometimes. He had missed having someone to quietly chat with late at night,or early in the morning, before they dozed off)

Rooming with Mingyu had always been his favorite choice though, for an endless number of reasons.

They do a random draw like they always do, because it's fair and keeps everyone relatively happy (or at least quiet if they are unhappy). Some switches are made afterwards because they just make sense (Jun and Jeonghan swap so that it's Jun and Wonwoo in the proclaimed “video game and anime room”, and Jeonghan and DK _of course_ want to be together).

Minghao and Mingyu seem to be a pair created by the god of roommates himself and for a moment, Minghao irrationally wonders if Mingyu will bring up wanting to switch. But then he remembers that they are best friends and why would he do that? What a silly, fleeting concern for him to even humor.

The new apartments are really nice. Moving someplace new is always an upgrade but this time it's even better because the complex is so wide and spacious. And while they still take up two separate apartments, they share the same floor. It's much easier to get everyone together, even though one flight of stairs doesn't seem like a big hindrance. It's more appealing to simply pop out into the hall, press a few buttons, and infiltrate the other apartment.

Minghao is the first of the pair to enter their newly shared room. It's pretty spectacular, with a high slanted ceiling, large windows that let in a generous amount of sunlight; their room is on the corner of the building which allows for double the amount of light. It feels like something out of a drama or lifestyle magazine and Minghao has to remind himself that this is his real, actual life: almost unrealistically luxurious. There are deep inset window sills, wide enough for him to perch on and gaze out dreamily at the skyline before him. 

He can already envision it: the fairy lights, the wine, the music, his sketchpad... the flickering movements and lights from the world below.

Their beds are staggered in the room so they aren't directly across from one another, which makes it feel more natural and less like a hotel (or an orphanage, as they used to joke back in their pre-debut days). Minghao turns his to be flush against the wall because he likes having something to fall back against. Mingyu's is still sticking out into the middle of the room and Minghao thinks he'll probably keep it that way to keep the room from being too matchy-matchy, even if it eats up precious floorspace.

There's also a humongous built-in wardrobe standing tall between two of the windows. There is only one so he assumes he and Mingyu will have to share, which is fine. They can get additional storage and drawers if need be. The piece itself is massive and heavy, not the kind of cheap plywood he's used to seeing in the furniture they normally have. It's solid wood, maybe oak or something of the sort (he'll admit he doesn't really know his wood types), with intricate swirling patterns carved into it. It's stained a dark, almost reddish brown and it sticks out in the otherwise modern design. But it's beautiful and Minghao likes how vintage it feels. He knows their building is older and was recently renovated, so it must be an older focal piece they decided to keep.

His fingers are ghosting along a curled floral design when he hears the opening of the bedroom door followed by a small gasp

"Whoa... this is penthouse level," Mingyu says, his jaw slack and eyes wide as he takes in the room. He is dragging behind him the silver suitcase that he and Minghao have shared on many occasions in the past. Minghao smiles fondly.

"Right? I claimed this side, is that okay?" Minghao asks even though he knows the answer already: they never fight over petty things like that and he knows Mingyu hates waking up with the sun in his face, so the other side of the room is much more suited for him.

Mingyu only hums in reply, his head bobbing as he continues to admire their new space.

"We can set up some easels over here, there's plenty of room for it. And the speaker can go along this wall, we can hang some pieces above it too. I bet the acoustics in this room will be awesome." Mingyu has always been so good at this kind of thing: organizing, arranging and displaying that even though Minghao has his own preferences, it's an area where the other really shines, so he lets his friend take the reins. He's never been disappointed before.

Mingyu scoots his bed down the wall but as Minghao has predicted, he doesn't turn it longways flush against it. It sticks out perpendicularly and it looks good from his perspective; purposely arranged and homey. 

"Whoa, this looks out of place." Mingyu finally acknowledges the oversized wardrobe, wandering over to it and tracing his fingers along some of the complex lines, just as Minghao had done.

"You don't like it?"

"No, it's great. It's really cool. It just looks like it almost doesn't belong here." Minghao nods in agreement, popping up from his place on the bed to stand beside Mingyu, their shoulders brushing.

Without words, they each grab a handle and pull open the two heavy doors. The inside is empty and clean, minus a few forgotten hangers and a small feather that flutters in the wind produced by the opening doors. Mingyu picks it up and smooths it between two of his fingers. Minghao comments that it looks like it's from the inside of a jacket or something and Mingyu seems to agree when he mindlessly rubs it between the pads of his forefinger and thumb before letting it float back down to the floor of the wardrobe.

Seungcheol's voice rings out from down the hall that one of the moving trucks has arrived and is starting to bring up more of their belongings. Mingyu steps away without another word and Minghao doesn't need to look to envision what's happening in the hallway when he hears the collision of two bodies and Jihoon playfully cussing at the tallest member to look where he's going.

Minghao goes to shut the wardrobe but the motion causes the lone feather to flutter again before he skillfully catches it in his fist. Opening his hand, he briefly inspects the gradient of brown to white before stuffing it in his pocket to throw out later.

He hears Jun call out for him and good-naturedly rolls his eyes before yelling he's coming to help.

\---

It's really not that exhausting of a day, considering the moving days they have had in the past. At this point in their careers, they have so many staff members helping them out that really all the members are left responsible for is pulling out their personal possessions and setting up their rooms how they like.

But even so, Minghao finds himself a bit worn out a few hours in. Mingyu, the ever constant ball of energy, doesn’t mind in the slightest when someone else pulls him away to ask his opinion or use his extra long limbs to reach top shelves.

Minghao is finally getting to unpacking some of his clothing when Mingyu waltzes in with an overflowing plate of fried chicken.

"Hungry?" he asks between chews, lowering the plate so it's at his roommate's eye level. Minghao glares at him but it's empty and unangry.

"No. Go eat in the dining room, I'd rather not have crumbs and grease all over our new room already."

"I'd clean it up," Mingyu scoffs before he swallows, picking up a chicken wing and ripping off a sizable amount of meat. Minghao finds the sight adorable in a starving-canine-gorging sort of way (not that he’d admit it out loud).

Mingyu wanders away, leaving the room to suddenly feel all too quiet.

It isn't weird or uncomfortable but something feels different. It's not like before when the two of them cleaned out the storage room in their old dorm so they could room together. That had been an exciting and fun time, like making their own destiny in a way. They had multiple reasons for wanting to room together (they were both extremely neat, they enjoyed the same atmosphere, Minghao didn't mind Mingyu's snoring as much as some of the other members...) but truthfully, the biggest reason for Minghao had been the desire to spend more time with his best friend.

Sure, they saw each other every day and spent countless hours together. But there was something much more intimate and personal about discussing hopes and dreams in soft voices when they were both tucked into their respective beds. It had made Minghao feel impossibly closer to Mingyu and he had always assumed it was the same for the other, based on how their interactions during daily life seemed to endlessly develop. Their relationship only strengthened and flourished.

The affection Minghao feels for Mingyu is all too real and deep; it penetrates beyond any label of friend or brother. He had thrown around the term soulmate before, though that felt too cliche to be accurate, as fitting as it may be. Whatever it is, there is no comparing their relationship to another that Minghao has with anyone else.

So naturally he thought that sharing rooms once again would reinforce their bond and make it even stronger. But then why does he feel the slightest onset of nerves then when he and Mingyu are in the space together?

He does his best to brush it off, blaming it on exhaustion and the toll of uprooting and readjusting to a new home.

Carefully smoothing out a few of his jackets, he picks up the the hooks of the hangers with a single finger and walks them to the wardrobe. He pulls open the doors and slips the hangers onto the rod at the top of the closet, pressing them against the wood siding closest to his bed. It will be a tight squeeze for both his and Mingyu's most precious attire, but it will do until they get some more storage.

He repeats the process a few times, adding more and more of his clothing to the wardrobe and it's after multiple trips that he feels a cool breeze, causing the hair on the back of his neck to prickle. He checks the windows and notes that they’re closed and it’s only as he passes by again that he realizes it’s coming from _inside_ the wardrobe. Confused, his hand wafts around in the space, wondering if there's a crack or split somewhere in the wood, allowing a cool breeze to drift inside it. The piece is so oversized that even when he extends his arm completely, his fingers can't brush the back of it.

Curious, he puts a knee down on the base, above the two large drawers, and leans forward into the darkness, his head popping in between a denim jacket and a puffy oversized winter coat. His fingers don't find any hard wood, just a stronger gust of wind that isn't cool anymore; it's downright _cold_. Minghao shivers a bit, his exposed arms breaking out in goosebumps.

His fingers touch something prickly and wet and he all but falls backwards with a tiny yelp. He doesn't know what it is but damn if he's going to leave it in there with his precious designer clothes. So with a tiny huff, he gets both knees on the bottom of the wardrobe and slides inward, one hand bracing his weight and the other mindlessly reaching.

His hooded faux-fur trim parka smacks him in the face and in the scuffle of not getting a mouthful of black fuzz, he maneuvers in deeper to the wardrobe, fingers still twitching to find the nasty cold thing he unfortunately discovered.

He's reaching so blindly that he doesn't realize his surroundings are getting darker as he slowly crawls further and further, until he suddenly can't feel the weight of any of his clothing and he hears the sound of twittering birds.

There's a faint light in front of him and it seems to pull him in, foolishly wiggling towards it. The air is freezing, nipping at the tip of his nose and sending shivers throughout his entire body.

There's snow suddenly, beneath his hands and knees and the light is blinding as it reflects off the glittering whiteness everywhere. Literally _everywhere_.

For a moment, he's reminded of the time he and his members had spent together in Akita. He's so in awe of its beauty that it takes him a few moments to realize he's somehow in the middle of a snow-covered forest, and that the cave he has just emerged from was, previously, his and Mingyu’s new wardrobe.

Minghao moves up onto his feet and stays squatted down as he takes in the scenery around him; startlingly he falls back onto his butt, turning and scuttling back into the cave. It must be a dream but the wet chill of the snow soaking through his jeans feels all too real.

He only stops his scurrying when he hears a familiar voice.

"Whoa, easy girl!"

It's undoubtedly Mingyu's voice, he'd know it anywhere. And as confused as he is (a bit frightened too), he can't help but stop and look back over his shoulder because it's something known and comforting.

It's definitely Mingyu in face and body, that's for sure. But the rest looks like it's straight out of a cheesy, medieval Hollywood movie.

Mingyu is on the back of a grey horse, its entire body covered in pretty white speckles; it reminds Minghao of some of his art pieces, splatters of white paint created by recklessly flicking his paintbrush. It shakes out its long off-white hair as Mingyu pulls the reins for the animal to stop.

Mingyu himself looks ridiculous. His hair is pushed back off his forehead, cheeks tinted pink from the cold or being breathless or maybe both. His entire body is encased in an oversized, heavy jacket presumably constructed from fur pelts. It's a beautiful mix of dark browns and honey colors, slightly dampened and matted from the falling snow. He looks ridiculous but incredibly handsome. Ridiculously handsome.

Minghao is so busy taking in the sight of this foreign version of his best friend that he doesn't realize he's been spotted.

"Who goes there?" wannabe Game of Thrones Mingyu calls out and at any other time, Minghao would laugh because _who actually says that?_ But he can't bear to laugh right now because this is all so bizarre.

Mingyu's horse trots closer and the voice in the back of Minghao's head tells him to bolt back into the darkness of the cave because even if the guy before him is very clearly Mingyu's identical twin in every way, it's not the real him.

He can't be. That wouldn't make any sense.

"Who are you?” asks not-Mingyu, “ Are you a farmhand?" 

Minghao is slightly offended by the question because yeah, he's wearing jeans, but he doesn't look like a farm boy. He’s _never_ resembled someone from the countryside.

"If you're a cobbler, you clearly need to improve your skills."

"What?" Minghao finally speaks, his eyes narrowing slightly. Fur-covered Mingyu grins at him and he kinda hates this version of his best friend, despite how charming he looks.

"You seem to have forgotten your shoes."

Well in his defense, he did have slippers on before, but he slid them off before climbing into the wardrobe, which was evidently an awful idea. The snow is soaking through his socked feet and his toes are beginning to go a little numb. He curls them inward against his foot.

"What's it to you?"

"Ah-ha, I’ve masked myself well! You must not know who I am with my sigil concealed," Mingyu laughs lightly, pulling up the heavy blanket tossed across the back of his horse. It reveals a thinner, more luxurious fabric decorated with a seal of deep gold and a pretty, lighter blue. He spots the word 'Kim' across it but he can't make out the rest before Mingyu drops the blanket again. Sure, the surname is common, but he looks just like him, so...

"Mingyu?" he mentions, tentatively. Mingyu's canines poke out as he grins.

"I may be in disguise a bit but you still should refer to me as Prince!"

Minghao laughs, unintentionally, but it bubbles past his lips before he can stop it and suddenly Mingyu is hopping off his horse and Minghao should really turn around and crawl back to his dorm room now.

This Mingyu is just as tall as his real self but he seems even bigger under the weight and bulk of all his furs. His face is still as childlike as ever though, pouting slightly with his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes glimmering with something Minghao knows well. He's laying on the childishness real thick.

"Is that amusing to you? I could have you beheaded, you know!" Mingyu's chest gets puffed out a bit and his horse snuffles quietly behind him.

Minghao knows he's toeing a delicate line here but this guy is just so much like his best friend that he feels like he wants to push it the same way they always go back and forth. What he doesn't factor in though is that this Mingyu doesn't seem to recognize him. At all.

"You won't behead me, you're too... merciful of a prince." It's not the exact words he wants to say; he really wants to tell him that he knows Mingyu could never intentionally hurt a fly, let alone his best friend. He doesn't have the stomach for it. His heart is all too big. And that seems to be the case here and now too because the supposed prince deflates a little under his outerwear.

"Nobody ever takes me seriously enough."

"It's better to be a prince known for kindness than one known for instigating fear." He doesn't know where that line comes from but it seems to work because Mingyu appears less wilted.

"Why are you out here underdressed? Are you a beggar? Do you not have any land?" Mingyu's tone isn't accusatory or annoyed; he seems genuinely curious and something Minghao labels as concern crosses his face as he does a once over on Minghao. He hates feeling scrutinized, but this feels particularly worse because Mingyu 2.0 seems to think he's homeless.

"No, I have a home. I just... ended up here." He leaves it at that because he's not good at fabricating lies on the spot. There is a downfall to always being so open and straightforward, he realizes now.

"You'll freeze in those threadbare rags." Minghao scoffs but it goes unnoticed because Mingyu is pulling off one of the blankets from his horse's back and immediately hovering over him, wrapping Minghao up in it like he's a newborn.

"What--"

"When was the last time you ate?" Mingyu asks with a deep frown, his forehead creased. "You need to fatten up to last the long winter."

Minghao is about to kick this Mingyu in the shin if he doesn't stop it now.

"I'm fine, just--"

"I shouldn't have eaten the last of my jerky. I can't bring you into town without looking suspicious. But if you wait here, I can bring you some--"

"Really, it's nothing to worry about--"

"Look, you’re the one who told me that a prince--"

"Seriously! I'm fine, Mingyu!" Minghao doesn't mean to shout but it happens anyway. Mingyu's eyebrows fly upwards. "Prince, I mean," he quickly corrects.

"You said it yourself, it's better to be known as a kind prince than otherwise. How kind would I be if I just left you to wither away?" Minghao grits his teeth but deep down, he knows the sentiment is genuine. It still irks him, though.

When he doesn't speak up again, Mingyu smiles lightly before mounting his horse again, turning it around in a few slow circles.

"Wait for me. I'll return quickly." And then he's pressing his heels into the creature's sides and taking off, weaving through the trees and disappearing into the snowy scene. It's such breathtaking and unreal sight, Minghao is motionless for a while.

He doesn't know how much time has passed but his appendages are now without feeling, even with the heavy blanket wrapped around his body. It smells odd, like earth and some sort of spice. He's busy nosing the fabric when he hears a group of voices somewhere off in the distance.

Minghao strains his ears to try and pick up any that are familiar to him but they all muddle together; there must be at least four or five men in the group and his mind jumps to worst case scenario where “Prince Mingyu” rounds up guards or medieval police or whatever they are and chains him up in a dungeon for the rest of his miserable life.

He doesn't think he's ever moved as fast as he does then when he starts running and is stumbling into the small cave, back hunched over until he's out of room and has to fall to his knees. He lets out a hiss of pain but doesn't stop motoring through the dark tunnel, the blanket eventually slipping from his shoulders and sliding to the ground, forgotten.

His head ungracefully smashes into something hard and he lets out a groan before pushing at the sudden roadblock and finally, there’s light!

The slight familiarity of his new bedroom fills his eyes and he tumbles out of the wardrobe and doesn't waste a second before slamming the doors shut behind him.

His jeans and socks are freezing and dripping, clinging to his body in the worst possible way. He manages to stand and hurries to a window, yanking it open and letting the warm summer air surround him.

His shucks his clothing off quickly (as fast as wet denim can be removed, that is) and lets his skin slowly prickle back into the realm of having feeling.

Mingyu picks the perfect time to return to the bedroom. "Hey, you should really come get some chicken bef-- oh. Are you okay?" 

Minghao is bent over the deep-set window sill, clad only in his shirt and underwear. His socks and jeans are in a wet, messy heap near his feet. He manages to look over his shoulder at Mingyu, his eyes concerned and forehead creased just like his doppelgänger who had claimed he was too skinny and needed to eat.

What in the world is happening?

"Yeah, just... spilled water. I'm fine." He pushes himself upright and feels far too exposed, even though it makes no sense. Mingyu's presence feels odd too, despite being horse-less and without a mountain of furs on his shoulders. He looks nothing like a prince with his messy hair and probable chicken grease stain on his shirt. It should be comforting but Minghao still feels uneasy.

He's just Mingyu. His best friend.

Minghao forces a smile. "I'll come out and eat in a second."


	2. we'll begin with a spin

It's only been one week since they've moved into the new dorm and Mingyu isn't the biggest fan.

He had been looking forward to it, especially after roommates had been determined and he found out he'd get to bunk with Minghao again.

Jihoon had been a fantastic roommate, Mingyu didn't have any complaints. Since he didn't really spend copious amounts of time in their bedroom, his hyung's habit of lounging around all day when he had free time didn't bother him much. He was a little messy but nothing that Mingyu was unaccustomed to dealing with, and he humored Mingyu's desire for late night conversations (for the most part).

But rooming with Minghao had always been the best set-up. They are so alike in so many different ways that they always worked well together, they could do things without really communicating, there were never any major arguments, and their room was spotless, relaxing and warm.

If Mingyu was being honest, he was a bit miserable being in a completely different dorm than his best friend. Sure, they were together practically every day anyway, but with the group's quickly expanding solo activities, it had become harder and harder to get quality time with Minghao. If he wasn't jet-setting off to China, Mingyu was busy with different MC gigs that ate up all his time.

He remembers coming home one evening after working a show with Seungkwan, wandering over the neighboring dorm in search for his fellow members (namely Minghao, but he would never admit that out loud) when he came across a small group of them lounging on the floor, drinking wine. They were in the midst of cleaning up, Soonyoung nodding off with a nearly empty glass in his hand, and upon spotting him, Minghao insisted that Mingyu sit down and have a drink too.

But Mingyu was fully aware that he had arrived to the party late and insisted with a smile that it was okay and proceeded to help Minghao and Jeonghan clean up, eventually leading a buzzed, sleepy Soonyoung to his bed.

It wasn't jealousy or anything dark like that, but Mingyu couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. For a while, he thought it was a reaction caused by that one specific event, but in time he grew to realize it was more than that. For whatever reason, it felt as if he and Minghao were slowly drifting from one another.

It wasn't a fall out or a crack in their relationship at all; Mingyu still had his best friend in whatever capacity their lives allowed him to. He could still sling an arm around the other's shoulders, doze off against him in the van, jump around with him happily on stage. But there was a new distance that crept up and slowly seemed to be nudging them apart. Things became less private, less intimate, more casual.

So with the news of their new living situation, Mingyu was tickled pink. It was as if the universe had sensed the divide between them and was finally course-correcting. That's how Mingyu interpreted it at least, the ever rose-tinted glasses type he is.

It's only been a week since they moved back in together and it's... underwhelming. 

_That sounds awful_ , Mingyu chides himself whenever he thinks that way, but ever since they moved into their room together, Minghao has been so disconnected.

He's not overly neglectful or rude, but he seems... spacey. When it's just the two of them, he rarely gives Mingyu is full attention, burying his nose in a book or gluing his eyes to the screen of his phone. Even during activities together as a group, there's been a switch. He doesn't notice it at first but more and more often when he turns his head to engage the other in one of their 'looks' or whisper something in his ear, he's not there. He's somewhere lost amongst the thirteen of the them, far enough to be out of reach.

Mingyu thinks hard over if there's anything he's done to cause such a shift. There's been no blow up or misunderstanding that he can recall and Minghao isn't being unkind or angry towards him, so he doesn't know where to start. It’s crushing.

Not devastatingly so, but the kind that slowly and gradually chips away at something inside of him whenever he realizes Minghao is only half-listening to him or when his friend opts to sit beside Vernon or Jun instead of taking the empty seat beside him.

He plans to bring it up. 

One day. 

Once he figures out how to word it without seeming like an overly sensitive big baby. 

He knows it's probably nothing, just a phase of sorts that happens where they all take little breaks from one another. It's bound to happen when there are thirteen very different personalities constantly living and working in the same atmosphere.

\---

It's early enough that the sun hasn't started to rise but Mingyu is up, freshly showered, and quietly attempting to dig around in the wardrobe for a particular shirt he wants to wear to the broadcast studio. It's difficult to find in the dim light of the bedroom when the majority of his attire is black, button-up, and silky to the touch. He wishes he could turn on the light but Minghao is still sleeping and last night, he turned in much later than Mingyu did, so he doesn't have it in him to do anything that might wake the guy.

One of his hanging belts clangs against the wooden door and he curses under his breath, peeking over at Minghao who wiggles around but thankfully doesn't wake.

Mingyu lets out a soft sigh before one of his suit jackets slips off the hanger and he can't see at all within the darkness of the closet so he resorts to blindly feeling around for the material.

His arm extends outward and his fingertips brush something that is coarser than anything he owns and he wonders what the hell Minghao had bought that he doesn't know about.

Despite his long limbs, he can't find the fallen jacket and whines in frustration, gripping the door with one hand before hunching over to extend his reach. The physics behind his current situation aren't lost on him; he has no clue why he can't feel the back of the furniture piece given his excessive arm span.

There's a soft meowing sound that catches his ear and he freezes in place, straining to hear it again. It echoes from the back of the wardrobe and Mingyu's heart does a little somersault at the thought of some kind of animal living in the vintage closet in their room.

He's always been a bit impulsive so when he slips both his knees onto the base of the piece, clumsily pushing his head through the hanging clothes like an oversized truck pulling through a carwash, the peculiarity of the situation is tucked away into the back of his mind.

Mingyu whistles through his teeth, quiet enough to hopefully not scare the animal. His hand curls into the coarse material he felt before and he suddenly gets a whiff of it; it reeks like a farm, cow dung and hay and who knows what else. He pulls the item into the light, enough to note that it’s some old, dirty looking blanket. Though it's unpleasant, he's not that disgusted and disregards it for the time being, continuing into the oddly deep wardrobe.

There's the meowing again, louder this time, when Mingyu suddenly sneezes, his eyes screwed shut and nose itchy. When his eyes flutter open, he spots light in front of him, broken up into long stripes. His mind wonders if he somehow ended up in the ventilation system because that's what the gate reminds him of, so naturally he dumbly crawls towards it, his nose still twitchy. Wherever he is, it sure is dusty.

When he finally reaches the gate, he can't see much aside from a long hallway. It's lined with an ancient looking Persian rug, lanterned sconces lighting up the walkway. It definitely smells moldy and with the sleeve of his shirt covering his mouth, he gently nudges the small gate to see if it will budge.

It crosses his mind to call one of the guys but it's early and dammit, he's got to get going if he doesn't want to run late. But the meowing comes again and through the bars, Mingyu sees a black shape scurry in front of him.

For all he knows, he's crawled his way into a neighboring build, one that evidently hasn't been renovated or cleaned in about a century. But the child within him is egging him on to find the cat, pet the cat, cuddle the cat, make sure the cat has a collar or a home or _something_.

So with a swift jab of his arm, he knocks the gate off, sending it flying to the floor with an obnoxiously loud clang. Mingyu winces at the sound, hoping nobody heard it, most of all the black cat he is dead-set on scooping up.

With as much grace as can be expected of him, he slips out of the small vent and unnecessarily hunches his back over as he tiptoes down the hallway. Taking a couple centimeters off his height really won't hide him at all, he realizes that, but he does it out of instinct anyway.

The cat prances down a few steps of an oversized spiral staircase and Mingyu dutifully follows behind it, catching up to it only to have it hop a couple of steps further.

The stairs eventually end, Mingyu a little dizzy from having his eyes trained on the floor the entire time. He looks up and notices that now the walls are bare stone and that it's remarkably colder. Shuddering, he rubs at his arms and jumps when a loud, rumbling sound echoes against the walls, the candles perched along it rattling.

The sound is melodic, the tone deep and rounded; it's one he isn't too familiar with but it's lovely all the same.

Mingyu feels something brushing against his leg and smiles when he sees the cat rubbing along his pants. Gingerly, he scoops up the animal in his arms and gives it a few rubs on the chin. It's collar jingles, a dark maroon color with an intricate gold tag attached.

"Junhui," Mingyu reads, his nose scrunching. He naturally thinks of his hyung and chuckles at the coincidence.

With the cuddly creature now curled in his grasp, he follows the music to a set of large wooden doors. One is cracked open and Mingyu takes that as an invitation to go inside, despite his better judgement.

They must have some really interesting neighbors.

He doesn't know what he expects to see but it's definitely not a colossal room with ceilings at least three stories high. The back wall is lined with tall, beautiful pipes and set in the middle of the display is a bench and someone sitting upon it, their stature dwarfed by the sheer size of everything that surrounds them. 

Mingyu can finally name the instrument he’s been hearing: an organ.

But it's bigger than any one he can remember ever seeing. It creates such a booming sound that it rattles inside his chest and Junhui seems to purr in time with it, his face smushing into Mingyu’s sternum in a way that screams fondness.

Mingyu knows he should turn back now, he got the cat cuddles he so stupidly wanted so he should let the animal go and hightail out of there before someone catches him wandering around in a place where he shouldn't be. But the music being played truly is beautiful; practically mesmerizing and, like a moth to a flame, his feet carry him closer to the source.

The figure creating the music is extremely lean looking under their attire; the tails from the suit jacket brush along the floor as they sway on the bench in time with the melody they are playing. Their hair is longish and black, curling along the nape of their neck.

It is bound to happen because Mingyu has never really outgrown his clumsiness, so when he knocks into a massive, ancient-looking vase with his elbow, Junhui lets out a shriek in his arms before wiggling free and jumping down.

The organist stops on a note that leaves it feeling more intentional than as if he was suddenly interrupted. Mingyu's heart jumps into his throat and he crouches down behind the large vase, bracing his hands on the side of it to stop it from wobbling.

"Junnie," the musician Mingyu assumes now is male says with a sigh, "must you always make an entrance?" The man turns on the bench when the cat hops up onto the organ's front, just above the keys.

The profile of the man's face has Mingyu blinking repeatedly, his fingers curling against the hardness of the container he's using as a shield. The roundness of the nose, the lines of his eye and shape of his jaw. The extension of his neck... 

Mingyu is looking at Minghao.

He quickly wonders if he's dreaming, if he somehow nodded off while rifling through his clothing because he knows pretty much all there is to know about his best friend (or so he would like to think) and organ playing is not one of Minghao's many talents.

The clone pets the cat for a few seconds before turning back to the instrument, shaking out his wrists. He begins playing again but this time the tune is somehow softer and lighter, more romantic and lovely. Mingyu has never been much of a fan of classical music, chamber music, whatever it's called... but this is somehow different.

His skin breaks out in goosebumps and his stomach flutters as he listens, his mind conjuring up images of Minghao's face that he knows so well. He thinks of the other's expression when he is dancing freely, his face relaxed but serious, his eyelashes fluttering as if he's doing it so effortlessly, lips slightly parted, wet from the way his tongue flicks over them.

It all feels so intimate and while Mingyu knows it's not that odd to know so much about someone he has practically grown up with, he had never consciously realized how easy it was for him to summon an array of Minghao's expressions in his mind, a place that's evidently filled with buckets of memories of his best friend.

Suddenly Mingyu's nose begins to twitch again (curse his sensitivity to dust). He tries to hold his breath but it's hopeless as he proceeds to let out perhaps the loudest sneeze of his entire life. It echoes throughout the extensive room and when he looks up, he's not surprised to see both Junhui and Minghao looking in his direction.

It's definitely Minghao, he knows that now, even despite the oddly shaped white mask he has covering half his face. Somehow, it makes the other seem much more intimidating; almost scary and it has Mingyu subconsciously curling tighter into himself.

"Who's there?" masked Minghao yells out, his voice roaring and ringing with very clear _anger_. He's up on his feet and stomping towards Mingyu's hiding spot in an instant and, without thinking, Mingyu scrambles to a standing position and begins running.

He sprints out of the organ room, runs down the hall, rushes up the spiral staircase two steps at a time, and he all but launches himself into the darkness of the vent he had emerged from, forgetting all about the iron gate discarded on the floor.

His scampering is so fast paced that it hurts his knees as he barrels through the darkness. He can't think of anything clearly with his heart thudding in his ears and the top of his head knocking against the ceiling of the tunnel more than once.

Finally, he crashes face first into something soft and warm. Enrobed in the familiar scent of their laundry detergent, he lets out a long, gasping breath he didn't know he was holding as he very awkwardly falls onto the floor of his shared bedroom.

The racket pulls a sleeping Minghao from his slumber and when he rolls over to look down at Mingyu with sleep-heavy eyes, it's the first time Mingyu has ever looked at him and felt so unsettled.

"What're you doing?" Minghao asks him, his voice groggy and accent heavy from sleepiness.

"N-nothing. Sorry." His stuttering seems to wake up the other a bit more, shaking out his mused hair as he looks down at his roommate, curiously.

Mingyu manages to pull himself up to his feet and turns his back to the other, rummaging through the clothing in the closet to busy himself. Instantly, he remembers what was on the other side of the garments and yanking off a random jacket, he slams the wardrobe doors closed.

"I'll see you later," Mingyu says hastily before quickly exiting the room.

Once the door is between them, Mingyu presses his hand to his chest, feeling the labored thudding within it.

He doesn't know how to process what just happened, his head spinning so much that he feels a little lightheaded. But his phone buzzes in his pocket (their manager asking if he's ready to head out) and trying to pull together all professionalism he has, he tucks the peculiar, weird and unsettling experience to the back of his mind.


	3. defy explanation

The following weeks fly by. There's so much going on between preparing for the next comeback and solo activities; Minghao ends up spending a week and a half in China with Jun for a TV special. It's an exhausting trip injected between their studio and practice filled days but truthfully, Minghao welcomes the trip. Firstly, he gets to see his parents, which is always a nice perk of visiting his home country; secondly, he and Jun get to eat their fill of Chinese food, both homemade and dishes from a few of their favorite hole in the wall places. Going to China is always a healing trip, even if his work schedule is a bit grueling.

And even though he would never outwardly admit it to a soul, he's glad to have a bit of space between himself and Mingyu. 

Ever since the weird acid-trip-like-excursion he had involving their wardrobe, he can't help the strange feeling that overcomes him every time he is alone with his best friend. His odd behavior must have rubbed off on Mingyu because it wasn't lost on him how the treatment had started being reciprocated. If Minghao was caught so much as looking at him or, god forbid, bumped into him coming in or out of their joined room, Mingyu's eyes would get comically big and he'd duck his head down like a scolded puppy before mumbling something under his breath and scurrying off.

That kind of behavior had never been common from the tallest member; Mingyu had a history of never letting awkwardness linger between him and the rest of the guys. If there was ever an issue or concern he addressed it right away, things got worked out, and everything went back to their normal way. It's one of the reasons he has some of the tightest and closest relationships with every single one of the other guys.

But this circumstance between them is one of a kind. Minghao knows it's his fault; he knows that Mingyu must just be reacting to how he's been treated for the past three weeks. Jesus, it's been nearly a month.

Jun notices his slowed eating and points his chopsticks at him, accusingly.

"Don't start this again."

Minghao blinks up at his hyung. "Start what?"

"This," Jun says with a mouthful of food, circling his chopsticks around in the air. They're still pointed directly at Minghao, who scoffs. Suddenly the noodles he and Jun have been gorging on after filming wrapped for the day aren’t so appetizing.

"I'm not starting anything." As if to prove a point, Minghao aggressively picks up a mess of noodles and shovels it into his mouth, slurping. Jun raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything else as he continues to eat his fill.

The two finish off their meal in silence, which isn't too uncommon when it's just the pair of them, but Minghao knows the air is different. He knows Jun is going to prod. He can never keep his mouth shut for very long.

"So," the elder sighs, setting down his utensils and leaning back in his seat. The tiny restaurant they're in is practically empty at this time of night; there's only an elderly man sitting by the window so they might as well be alone. "You and Mingyu had a fight or something?"

And here it is. Minghao rolls his eyes but his stomach twists in a way that might not be just because he forced himself to eat when he wasn't hungry.

"We didn't fight."

"Then what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on."

"Seriously. You think I buy that?" Jun normally doesn't speak so bluntly when it comes to matters like this; he's typically the kind and reliable type, the one to rub shoulders and offer an ear without the threat of chewing you out for something. But after so many years together, Minghao knows that this is still coming from a place of love. Tension in the group is never left undealt with. That's what has kept the thirteen of them going as strongly as they have; they always address everything. "If you don't want to talk to me about it, you can hash it out with Coups hyung when we get back."

It's not a threat but Minghao knows he's right; nothing gets past Seungcheol and if Jun has caught onto the strain between him and Mingyu, he's sure others have too.

"We didn't have a fight," Minghao reiterates, running his hand back through his reddish brown hair. "It's just... weird rooming with him again, I guess."

Jun's eyebrows scrunch together. "Why?"

A flash of Mingyu covered in fur pelts, grinning down at him from the back of a horse fills Minghao's mind and he physically shakes his head to try and rid of the picture. "I don't know," he lies, swallowing. "It just is different now."

His hyung frowns and Minghao feels guilty, he really does, because some weird experience (possibly a dream?) is not only impacting his relationship with his best friend but it's also becoming a concern to other members as well. It's not fair but he doesn't know what to do about it. How does he talk about it?

"I think... I had a weird dream about him and I've just felt different about him lately, I guess." It's a half-truth, half-lie. But honestly, it would be nice to share the burden with someone else and potentially get someone else's opinion on what to do about the situation.

"Oh," Jun says. Suddenly his eyes go big before his shoulders lift up and he's giggling manically into his hand. " _Oh_." 

Minghao makes a face of confusion at Jun's peculiar reaction before it hits him.

The dream definitely didn't involve anything Minghao is sure Jun has in mind (despite the fact that a minuscule part of him found the princely Mingyu to be more attractive than he had ever considered before).

"Hey!" he hisses, reaching out and smacking the elder upside the head. "Not that kind of dream!"

Jun is dying still and it takes him a good few minutes to regulate his breathing, his face red from lack of air and his eyes teary. "Okay, okay. Sorry," he finally relents, after Minghao gave him a few more thwats. 

The old man in the corner glances at them curiously.

"You're the worst."

"What? It wouldn't be the first time." Minghao pulls a face. "You think none of the guys have ever had sexy time dreams about any of the others? Please, we started out as raging, hormonal teens herded and shacked up together. All of that doesn't simply go away."

Minghao shifts in his seat. He had truthfully never thought about any of the guys in that way before. Sure, there had been moments where he had really admired someone's attractiveness and of course he had indulged in some serious skinship over the years. And Jun is right, it's not that absurd to think that at one point or another, some of them might have felt some sort of... attraction to another. Be it one that manifested itself in dreams or reality.

"It wasn't like that though," Minghao clarifies once more for good measure. He's not disgusted or insulted by the assumption Jun made but he wants to make it clear that it isn't like that. The mere thought of Mingyu and those kinds of... feelings or visions is enough to make Minghao's face heat up in embarrassment.

"Okay, so then what's the problem?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's the problem? It was a dream, a non-sexy dream, about him. Did you dream about him dying again?" Minghao frowns at that memory, it tugging at something in his chest. 

He'd prefer having an awkward wet dream about his best friend over one like that again, no question.

He shakes his head. "Okay, so? Why are you being weird around him then? It was just a dream, it wasn't real. Whatever happened in it didn't really occur between you and him, so why are you acting like it did?"

Jun's word speak so much truth and make so much sense, Minghao is almost ashamed. He's totally right, of course. Whatever Minghao had experienced, dream or not, was not Mingyu's fault. 

That Mingyu clone wasn't actually his best friend and even if it had been, he had done nothing that should upset him. All he did was care and show concern, offer him a blanket and some food (albeit unnecessarily) and maybe come off slightly condescendingly. 

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. That's not exactly fair." Jun smiles at him like the know-it-all he must feel like he is right now before standing.

"Nope, it's not. So you can pay this time, right?"

Minghao rolls his eyes but pulls out his card anyway. It's the least he can do for his friend's obvious yet helpful advice.

\---

The pair are back in Korea a few days later and on the car ride to the dorm, Minghao makes a promise to himself to try and be _normal_ around Mingyu from now on.

He's looking forward to greeting the guys, it's always odd being away from them for periods of time, but most of them are either in the studio or out on their own schedules, Mingyu included.

Dragging his suitcase back to his room, Minghao notes how neat it is compared to the slight (just slight) mess he had left in his hustle to catch his flight on time. His pillowcase is different which means Mingyu took the time to change out his sheets for him before he returned. The small yet sweet gesture has Minghao smiling, falling back onto his bed and pressing his nose into his freshly laundered pillow.

Eventually he peels himself off his bed and begins unpacking his clothes, sorting the ones he didn’t use from those that need to be washed. He opens the wardrobe to hang his black denim jacket when he suddenly hesitates, staring at the clothes before him.

It's curiosity more than anything else because he still doesn't really know what happened that day he seemingly crawled into another dimension through his closet. So Minghao doesn't really falter when he slides onto his knees between the hangers of clothing and begins crawling inside.

He snags a sweatshirt off a hanger before he goes too far, remembering the snowy chill of... wherever he had ended up before.

Minghao doesn't know what he'll say to 'Prince Mingyu' if he even runs into him again, but the desire to see him, to verify that he's actually real and not a projection of Minghao's subconscious, is too strong.

The tunnel is longer than he remembers and he doesn't feel any rushing of cold air like before, nor any ice or snow beneath his hands and knees. In fact, the ground becomes harder and smooth, like metal, and with each lunge he makes, the weight of his body lets out a tinny echo.

Suddenly, he puts his hand down in something warm and incredibly sticky, leaving strings of gunk connecting his palm to the floor.

"Ugh, what?" he asks aloud. It's too dark to see much but he can smell something sickly sweet and as he continues moving towards the light at the end of the tunnel, the scent only grows stronger.

He's practically dragging himself through the goo now with half the mind to turn back but he's stubborn. He needs to see this through for his peace of mind.

When he reaches the end of the tunnel, it's confirmed that he's not in a cave, let alone one that lets him out into a snowy forest.

Everything around him is brightly colored and decorated, almost blindingly and comically so. There's a large pool filled with an unsettling dark brown liquid that seems to be flowing into an opening in the wall. There are trees too but not the ordinary trees he's used to seeing; these bear large rainbow colored droplets that shine and gleam in the light. And the wall is covered in speckled spheres and pinwheels, the kind that remind him of hard candies he used to receive occasionally as a child. 

That's when the sickly sweet smell around him clicks in his mind and he looks down at his hands covered in a bright red, gummy looking goop. It's sugar. Whatever he's stuck in reeks of sugary candy.

The tunnel ends in a large pool of the red goo, so Minghao cautiously stretches out his leg towards its edge and lunges onto solid ground, thankfully saving himself from falling face first into the jelly substance.

Minghao is shocked, but it's not as alarming as when he first ended up in an alternate dimension. He's more confused as to why he ended up somewhere else this time, imagining the wardrobe might be like a game of roulette. Maybe its exits are constantly spinning and he can never predict where he would end up.

Despite feeling absolutely disgusting, he throws his relatively clean sweatshirt over his shoulder before wandering around the room, examining it. He stops by the running rich brown liquid, hesitantly squatting down and with an abundance of fear, lets the scent fill his nose.

It's _chocolate_ , of all things.

"Oh. How did you get here?" someone calls out.

Minghao freezes in his current position, chin practically touching his knees, his fingers centimeters from the surface of the seemingly chocolate river. He knows that voice and when he turns around, he's not surprised to see Mingyu's familiar face blinking at him.

Except this time he's dressed in a ridiculously designed suit. It's a deep green color, which has always looked amazing on the other, but it has cream colored pinstripes and long tails in the back. His shirt is a pastel lilac color that pops against the golden hue of his skin and there's a ludicrous top hat sitting on his head, tilted just slightly as if it's intentional. The ribbons tied around it are ridiculously oversized too.

"You didn't touch the river, did you?" Gumball Wizard Mingyu asks him, his eyes cartoonishly big and round.

"Um, no." Minghao quickly withdraws his hand before showing his clean fingers. Slowly, he stands up and that's when he notices Mingyu has a cane in his right hand. The handle is gold and intricate, but from the way Mingyu's hand grasps it, he can't tell more about it than that.

"Thank goodness. I don't want to relive that mess again." Mingyu laughs and taps his cane on the ground a few times before stepping closer to the other. "So, how did you get in? The loading dock? The chimney flues in the kiln room? Did you sneak in with the carts of fan mail?"

Minghao makes a face before motioning over to the passageway he emerged from.

"Wow, the jelly tube system? That's a first!" Mingyu laughs again and Minghao simply shifts on his feet, not sure what to say or do. The other suddenly pulls a golden whistle out from inside his silky purple shirt and opens his mouth to put it in before he pauses, looking at Minghao once more. "Why aren't you running?"

"What?" Minghao asks, genuinely confused. He feels stuck and it's not just the jelly on his slippers adhering him to the floor.

"Didn't you come here with... intentions?"

"Um, what kind of intentions?"

Mingyu blinks at him, the hand holding the whistle lowering. "Well, how would I know that? I'd assume stealing recipes or sabotaging our quality control or... I don't know. Why are you here?"

Minghao awkwardly lifts one foot, it squelching in a sickly sticky manner. "I... just wanted to see you?" He realizes he should have sounded more confident in his answer but Mingyu seems surprised all the same. Even if it isn't the same princely Mingyu he met before, seeing his best friend's face after a week and a half and his revelation with Jun is really nice. It warms something in his core.

"To see me? Are you here to assassinate me?" For such a crude assumption, Mingyu's face is oddly calm. More curious and less scared or concerned.

"What? No! Never."

"Hmm," the taller hums, pulling off his hat to reveal fluffy and messy light brown hair. He looks almost adorable, similar to how he appears on days when Minghao has to wake him up in the morning. Minghao can't help but smile a little at the sight. "Well, since you managed to get in undetected, I suppose I should reward your efforts. Would you like a tour?"

Minghao nods dumbly and struggles with the first few steps in his jelly-covered feet, which Mingyu acknowledges with a laugh before ushering him out of the room, into a much smaller and less colorful space.

He can now say he has experienced what it’s like to be an automobile, with the way he is placed on a conveyer belt and paraded through a line of machines and gadgets that hose him with warm water, scrub him down, and dry him off. Thankfully, all while remaining clothed.

The sickly sweet smell is gone from his being, which is a big relief because he has never been a huge fan of sweets. He touches his remarkably clean and pristine clothes as he exits the human-wash, Mingyu spinning the knob of his cane around as he stands in the hall. Minghao catches the design as it slows down. 

It's the infinity sign which has his breath catching in his throat. Sure, the symbol is universally known and popular, but it has an obvious special meaning to him. And the fact that an alternate version of his best friend just happens to be toting it around seems all too… bizarre. It causes him to hiccup and Mingyu looks up at the sound.

"Much better," Mingyu smiles before motioning for the other to follow him.

He doesn't know what he expects as he's led around the building, to different rooms all filled with other worldly devices and decorations. Mingyu explains all of it to him, some in great detail and others in fleeting comments, and to Minghao it feels as if he's in some experimental art exhibit. It's heavenly, in a way. He only wishes he had his camera with him.

"Why did you want to see me?" Mingyu asks suddenly as they exit a room filled with semi-transparent balls of various sizes, from ping pong to yoga ball size. Mingyu had told him they were a collection of the most perfect and impressive bubblegum bubbles ever blown, which seemed both fascinating and disgusting.

Minghao thinks for a moment on how to answer because even he doesn't really know why he was so intent on seeing him again. "You might not remember me but we've met before."

"I doubt that," Mingyu states simply. "I'd remember a face like yours." Minghao finds himself blushing but he doesn't know why. It only deepens when candyman Mingyu realizes and grins at him. "So if we’ve met before, why did you want to meet me again?"

Minghao shrugs as he follows the other into a seemingly normal elevator. It's only once they are inside that he realizes that it's, of course, not ordinary. The entire thing is made of glass, including the floor, which is unnerving to say the least. He presses his back to the transparent wall, his breath catching. The elevator suddenly bolts upwards, oddly smooth considering its unnatural speed.

Mingyu seems to notice how uncomfortable he is, offering a warm smile. "I don't like heights either but I've found a way to deal with it."

The real Mingyu isn’t fond of heights too, he thinks to himself. 

Minghao's eyes flicker over to him as a way to silently ask _how?_ because he's too petrified to use his voice right now. He has no idea how they got this far off the ground. "I close my eyes, make a wish, and count to three."

It sounds so childlike but Minghao doesn't have the mind to criticize it harshly right now so he closes his eyes and counts. When he opens his eyes again, Mingyu is staring at him and nothing has changed. He still feels as terrified as he did three seconds prior.

"Hate to say it but it seems your method isn't always successful," he says with a shaky puff of air.

"Did you make a wish?" Mingyu's voice is flat, unamused. The tone is unfamiliar coming from his face but Minghao realizes he's right. He didn't.

"What kind of wish?"

The hatted man shrugs, scratching his chin with the infinity sign of his cane. "Any kind. A happy one, something that would comfort you or bring you peace."

Minghao lets out a humorless laugh before squeezing his eyes shut once more.

His mind is a muddied mess but when he thinks of comfort, when he thinks of feeling warm and safe and happy, one face comes to his mind instantly. It's the same face of the man before him, except less ridiculously dressed. Minghao thinks of his best friend, wishes to be with him (the real him), and feel the comforting weight of his hand on his shoulder or his long arms looped around him in a hug. He counts slowly, one, two, three... and when he opens his eyes, there's still the weird carbon copy of his roommate. But this time he's smiling softly, his eyes glittering and sparkling, like he's a cartoon character or something.

"There you go," Mingyu tells him with something that sounds like pride. He hits a few buttons in the elevator and they are continue zooming upwards. But Minghao feels strangely calm.

\---

When the tour comes to an end, they’re back where they started. Minghao awkwardly waves goodbye to the technicolored version of Mingyu, who winks and grins at him like he knows something Minghao doesn’t. But it isn’t unsettling. Minghao simply nods back before jumping back across the sugary red goop. The tunnel’s shiny and clean now. He doesn’t question it, thankful he won’t have to get sticky again.

As he slowly crawls his way back through the tunnel, the scent of candies fading with every move he makes, Minghao can't help the smile on his face.

He emerges from the wardrobe, his open suitcase still splayed out on the floor. There's no sign of Mingyu and the rest of the dorm is extremely quiet. So he continues unpacking, humming to himself, the smile never drifting far off his lips.

Eventually the bedroom door opens with a low creak and Minghao looks up from his place on the floor to see Mingyu standing in the doorway. He looks torn, like he doesn't know if he should come in or close the door and disappear back down the hall. But before he can come to a decision, Minghao is on his feet and striding over to him, looping his arms around his midsection and pulling him into a hug.

Mingyu lets out a small 'oof' sound at the impact of their chests colliding and when Minghao doesn't let go after a few seconds, he can feel the taller's arms hesitantly reach up and rest on his back, properly returning the hug.

Maybe he holds the embrace for longer than he should, but there's a weird wave of emotions that wash over him; from his time away, to their mutual tension, to the interactions he's had with these different clones of his dearest friend. After all of it, more than any awkwardness that has transpired between them, Minghao is just glad to have him back, to have _them_ back.

When he finally pulls back, he examines Mingyu's face; his face is slightly flushed and his lips are parted as he blinks rapidly at the other. Minghao smiles at him, his hands sliding down Mingyu's arms and gently grasping his hands for a moment before finally, almost reluctantly, letting go.

"I've missed you," he admits truthfully. While he has always been the sentimental kind, affectionate in his own way, verbal admissions have never been common from him. He's more the type to convey his feelings through gestures, like feeding someone a kimbap roll with his own chopsticks or bumping shoulders.

The rarity of this verbal admission isn't lost on Mingyu either, who gives him a curious look but seems to relax, tightness melting out of his shoulders. He smiles a little at Minghao and only a second later, it stretches into a goofy grin.

"I've missed you too, Hao."

It's the first night in too long where the two stay up together, holed up in their room talking and laughing and sharing a bottle of wine. The evening is so simple but it brings Minghao a deep sense of peace and comfort. Eventually, when he goes to bed that night, he stares over at Mingyu's sleeping form, closes his eyes, makes a wish, and counts to three before easily falling asleep.


	4. if you want to view paradise

Comebacks are both the best and worst part of the job, Mingyu thinks. 

There's the unrivaled excitement that comes with preparing to share new material with the world, wanting to share what they've put all their time and effort into, and gauge the reaction. It's a fresh start, another new chapter to the hopefully lengthy novel that is Seventeen. It means that there is a string of concerts and show appearances in the future, both things that Mingyu thrives doing.

But there are obvious drawbacks to comeback preparation time, namely the very bad, tiring, stressful days; days where they are cooped up in the dance studio for weeks on end, exhausted and frustrated at the lack of ease some things come with. There are the studio sessions that normally aren't too bad, but, sometimes, Mingyu finds himself annoyed at himself and the fact that he has to go through multiple takes to land a line perfectly. 

And of course, there's the fear of all their hard work resulting in failure. 

Because as exhilarating at it is to present something new to their fans and the general public, it's also quite terrifying. Up until this point, they've been blessed with a rather upward trajectory as a group; with each comeback, they have grown and evolved, some eras more than others, but there have never been any major bumps or setbacks. So the reality that one flop, however minor, is bound to happen is definitely on all of their minds ("you can't strike gold every time," Mingyu had heard Bumzu say once.)

That anxiety causes some tension amidst the group, namely the leaders. 

Jihoon is good at hiding it mostly, staying holed up in the studio like the producing hermit he loves to be as he slaves over song after song. This time around, Mingyu sees him outside the studio only twice in a week: once, as a hooded half-awake zombie pulling out leftover jajangmyeon from the fridge at 2 in the morning and another time, as the vocal team and hip hop team crossed paths as they exchanged the dance practice room.

Seungcheol is more upfront about his nervousness, though not necessarily in a negative way. His worries manifest themselves in playful ways: excessive amounts of chokeholds and pokes to ribcages. Mingyu can also spot it in the way the bags under his eyes darken and his face slims, and he does what he can to be supportive. He offers his ear and his company, which is all their general leader ever seems to ask for. Seungcheol is not obnoxiously greedy or starved for affection during these times (even if he revels in it), so the least Mingyu can do is take his teasing and playful wrestling with a smile on his face.

Perhaps the most unpredictable of the three is Soonyoung. That being said, things are definitely a lot better than Mingyu recalls them being when they first debuted. Back then, Hoshi hyung was constantly under a great deal of stress, half of it being placed on him by himself, and when they were younger, it would manifest itself in some adverse ways. He'd get visibly frustrated and sometimes snap at one of the members for something that he normally wouldn't get worked up about. It was understandable, Mingyu knew that. So he never took any of it personally because he knew his hyung to be one of the warmest and most loving people on the planet. It is nice though that now, with all the years they spent together, with all the comebacks, there has been a sense of maturity and a lessening of that personal burden. Still, most of the guys know when to give him space, not because he'll be nasty, but because he'll push them to run through moves again. And again. And again, and again.

That is unfortunately Mingyu's fate today when he's in the practice room with the rest of the hip hop guys, nailing down the choreo for their new unit song. The main choreographer had recruited Soonyoung to help with some of the moves, which is fine. It’s not too uncommon to have one of the performance team members chip in on other unit’s dances... but Jesus, did Soonyoung work them today. Mingyu's a fit guy, he has some of the best endurance in the group, and yet his legs feel like complete jell-o. It's nearly impossible to drag himself back to the dorm, let alone down the hallway to his room. He also knows he should shower and he will. Eventually. But for the time being he needs to just... exist. He needs to let his muscles rest until his limbs stop feeling like foreign appendages that he has little to no control over.

Flopping face down on his bed, he lets out a low groan into his pillow. He hadn't even taken a chance to look and see if Minghao was there because he was too caught up in his physical ailments. But he manages to crack an eye open and peek at the other side of the room, noting that it's empty. Minghao must still be in the studio with Jihoon and Jun; probably working on that new Chinese song his roommate was over the moon about.

Mingyu smiles at the memory of Minghao gushing over the song the other night, the way his eyes lit up and the hint of a smile curling at the corners of his lips. He had written the majority of the lyrics and while Mingyu hadn't been able to read them (or know what they were about given that his Chinese was still awful), Minghao had admitted that they were extremely personal to him. It was heartwarming to think of the other allowing himself to be vulnerable and pouring himself into a song to share with the world.

Of course Mingyu did those things often. When he writes lyrics, he tries to pull from something within. And with every performance, he gives everything he has, just like the rest of them do. But as far as the creative process goes with actually making their music, he's never been too personally invested in it where he has had the opportunity to bear his heart and soul. His words never seem as deeply personal as Wonwoo’s or Vernon’s contributions. Maybe one day he'd get to, if his songwriting abilities ever reached the level that so many of his fellow members were already at.

"Hey, you want a burger? Coups hyung is treating us," Vernon asks, suddenly in the doorway of Mingyu's shared room. 

"How are you still standing?" The elder groans. "Sure, never pass up on free food."

Vernon laughs a little and gives a one shoulder shrug, bobbing his head before disappearing down the hall again.

Mingyu shifts on his stomach a little and the way his clammy, damp skin sticks to his comforter is an unfortunate reminder that he needs to shower. So with great effort, he peels himself off the bed and staggers towards the wardrobe.

He means to grab a folded t-shirt and some gym shorts but he gets distracted by a glittery jacket on a hanger that he doesn't recognize. It's clearly a new purchase of Minghao's given the fact that he's never seen it before. It's black and so soft to the touch; when he runs his fingers over the sparkly fabric, it shifts from black hues to a deep navy color. He imagines it on the other's body, against his skin and slim shoulders, and smiles.

It's weird, he had realized before, how often these days he smiles to himself at the thought of his best friend. The fondness is overflowing and he doesn't know what to attribute it to, but it's a nice feeling that warms up his chest and leaves him bubbling with easy happiness.

It's a time and a place concoction that has him remembering the weird encounter he had with the half-masked carbon copy of his best friend. Mingyu tries not to overthink things in his life, just rolling with the punches and taking things as they come. So he hasn't spent too much time lingering on what kind of experience that had been, especially once he and Minghao seemed to settle onto better footing, falling back into their regular regime. They were back to their old ways and with that, the strange dreamlike happening became something he wrote off as a fever dream or an elaborate creation of his subconscious mind.

Maybe it's the exhaustion settling in but he wonders what that alternate world Minghao is up to, if he's playing the organ currently or playing with the cat with the conveniently fitting name. He wonders if he's at all like his Minghao (he mentally chides himself for using such possessive words about his best friend) or if he's completely different, the polar opposite. He seemed intimidating but, then again, sometimes people still think Minghao is unapproachable before they even talk to him at all. He's all cool and effortless looking (Joshua had joked once that the younger had a slight "fuckboy" look to him, which he then had tried to explain without offending said Chinese male. It didn't work out too well), like he doesn’t mull over his attire too much but instead blindly picks out an outfit and goes with it.

Mingyu thinks of Minghao's scandalized expression and the way he looked over his outfit with masked concern. He had claimed that he wasn't angry since it didn't mean anything to him because he didn't care how people perceived him in a shallow light like that. But Mingyu knew better. Anyone would be bothered when hearing something like that and being the good best friend he is, he had done his best to subtly help restore his friend's confidence once again. Casual compliments on his clothing and accessories, which weren't uncommon to begin with, but Mingyu dropped them even more deliberately, never holding back his tongue when a nice thought crossed his mind. He found ways to show his appreciation for the other's kindness and thoughtfulness too by mirroring Minghao’s consideration in ways like picking up the tab at lunch or enveloping him in more hugs than he normally would. Little things, really, but they seemed to be effective in helping Minghao realign himself and his self image.

Blinking himself out of his foggy mind, Mingyu allows his hand to slide along the floor of the wardrobe, as far back as it goes until his torso is laying flat on top of the wood. His breath hitches in his throat at the realization that it's just like before; he was too tired to properly explore it before, so he takes a moment to explore just how far back it goes. And despite his fatigued and aching body, he crawls up inside and along the smooth bottom, pushing past the sparkly jacket and all of their other clothes.

He expects to find the gated vent again, but the light never comes streaming in like before. Instead, the flooring beneath his hands and knees grows softer, damp and mushy, to the point where he's a little grossed out. Gradually, the air becomes humid, muggy and hot, causing his already nasty shirt to stick to his skin even more. And while there is no candlelight streaming in, there's a different kind of glow that slowly leaks into the passageway, emitting a bluish hue.

Reaching the end, his eyes blink against the darkness that surrounds him. The blue glow remains, fading in and out in little specks that remind him of fireflies, awakening a childlike giddiness within him. Once his vision adjusts, he realizes he's in some sort of jungle, large leaves and trees surrounding him and the sound of insects buzzing and humming filling his ears. He's reminded of his time spent in the jungle for variety purposes and there's a sudden wave of dread washing over his entire being, realizing all the dangerous animals that could be lurking around him, ready to attack.

Moving deliberately slowly, he gradually stands and notices his hands are stained with wet soil and foliage. Making a sound of mild disgust, he wipes them off on his already dirtied pants.

He realizes that the floating, gleaming specks aren't bugs but some sort of fluffy seeds that resemble dandelions. He's entranced, watching as they seem to dance around in conscious way, despite the fact that they are just puffs of near nothingness.

It's clearly not the creepy mansion he found himself in before. It's heaps better, beautiful and peaceful, the air clean and dust-free, unlike Seoul. It’s wonderful, despite the moisture that clings to every bit of his exposed skin. 

He touches the trunk of a tree so big, he probably couldn't wrap his arms around it completely even if he tried and despite the fact that it’s bark, it's surprisingly smooth to the touch. There's something cawing above him and he jumps a little, always the type to be easily spooked. But he's too caught up in the realization that it feels as if the tree is breathing, steadily pulsating under his fingertips, to be too scared of what could be watching him from the darkness.

He presses both hands flush against the trunk, breathing in time with its gentle rhythm. It's electrifying somehow, like he's being recharged and healed just by touching it, the exhaustion from practice disappearing from his mind. He's so caught up in the sensation that the only thing that breaks him out of it is the poking of something very sharp against his spine.

"Ow!" he calls out with a whine, body shimmying out of the way and stumbling as he tries to whip around. His initial thought is that it was some kind of bug nipping at him, so what he doesn't expect to see is a very sleekly man-made spear suddenly jabbing under his jaw, held in the hands of none other than Xu Minghao.

Minghao is wearing a rather ratty pair of shorts and nothing else, not even shoes or a bracelet. But there is a headband sort of piece holding back strands of fiery red hair and Mingyu would laugh if he wasn't so taken aback by the different (yet beautiful) vision of his best friend. It's somehow so his style, despite the lack of material to actually consider it a style at all.

His body is still slim and taut, but it's defined and lined in such a detailed way that he almost looks like he's been drawn and he isn't actually real. There are a few tattoo-looking marks along his chest and arms, one curving along his collarbone and down the back of his shoulder but Mingyu can only briefly examine it before the painfully pointy spear is digging into the soft skin under his chin.

"Whoa, Minghao," he slips out as his adam's apple bobs nervously. It may just be his imagination, but he thinks he can feel a trickle of blood sliding down his throat. Though it could also just be sweat from the humidity and the fear of having a blade so near his jugular.

Half-naked Minghao narrows his eyes and takes a step closer to him, the spear angling upwards in his hands. "How do you know my name?" His voice has no accent and Mingyu smiles momentarily impressed by it, before that causes his jaw to relax and the piercing feeling against his skin has him whimpering.

"Um, it's a bit complicated," the taller manages to get out between gulps. "Can you... can you put that down? I literally could never take you in a fight."

Minghao lets out a huff that sounds almost like a laugh; it's a sound Mingyu knows he makes when he is frustrated with something. "You're much larger than me."

"Yeah, but trust me, I'm harmless." If somehow real-world Minghao could see this, he'd be keeling over with laughter (and possibly annoyance at the fact that his alternate self would even consider Mingyu to be a threat). Mingyu knows he's seen as nothing but a giant puppy dog, even if his clumsiness and lack of self awareness has led to the occasional injury of others.

Minghao seems to consider this, though his face hardly gives him away; Mingyu only knows it because of the way his eyebrow (the one that bares a scar in the real world) twitches, a telltale sign that the other is putting up a front. What a relief that both versions of him seem to have similar quirks.

Eventually the spear is lowered from the vulnerable flesh near his neck... and is instead pointed straight at his gut. 

Becoming a human kebab in a strange world he stumbled upon within the confines of his closet doesn't sound like a great way to go.

"Really, I'm not gonna do anything."

"How do you know my name?" Minghao asks again, his face still twisted in distrust and maybe slight annoyance, if Mingyu had to add some depth to it.

Mingyu is awful at improvising , which is why he's often booed and shooed off stage by his members when he tries to be funny or charming on the spot during shows and live broadcasts. "Um. You just look like a Minghao?"

This is about when he'd be pushed and berated off camera, melting into the background for a while to regain some shred of dignity.

"I mean... I think we've met, once before. Maybe?"

"I would remember someone like you," Minghao bites back and for a second, Mingyu finds himself flattered. It's short-lived though because the tattoos littered across the other’s skin start to radiate a soft blue hue, much like the colorful fluffballs surrounding them.

"Whoa," Mingyu whispers, craning his head forward to get a better look at the sight. It reminds him of watching cars race by from an overpass, the glow traveling swiftly along the curves and lines of the markings like speeding vehicles. "How... how do you do that?"

"You say we've met before and you don't know that?" Minghao is full-on glaring at him at this point, poking at his stomach with the spear. Christ, it really does hurt to be prodded like this.

"Ow! I said maybe! You're familiar." 

Minghao snorts. "I think you'd remember meeting a wood nymph."

Mingyu's mouth forms a small 'o' and he can see it, he supposes, with the limited knowledge he has of such mythological beings. Minghao's adorable ears, the sweetness of his face, the slim and elegant lengths of his limbs, his bubbly giggle. Mingyu finds himself smiling and Minghao clearly doesn't approve, poking him again.

"Stop it!" Mingyu whines, swatting at the spear and missing as Minghao swings it down and out of his reach. He pouts, looking down at his shirt for any small tears or holes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got lost," he explains weakly, which isn't entirely untrue. Minghao seems to accept this answer thankfully though, making a face like he's unimpressed but finally lowering the butt of his spear down so that it's standing upright in his hand, pointed at the sky instead of any part of Mingyu's body.

"Of course. Typical of a half-ogre."

"Ogre?" Mingyu's voice cracks but Minghao looks unamused which confirms that he didn't mean it as a joke; he was being honest. "I'm not an ogre!"

"Then what are you?"

"I'm human!" Mingyu makes a loud scoffing sound, feeling at his face with his still dirt-covered hands. "Do I really resemble an ogre?"

"A not-so-hideous one, yes. Which is why I said half and not full blooded." With that, Minghao turns around and slips his spear into some tiny holster along the back of his shorts. He begins striding away until he's suddenly scuttling up a nearby tree like he's a monkey.

"Wait!" Mingyu calls out, his heart rate suddenly picking up again. This time it's just because he doesn't want to be alone or rather, he doesn't want this supposed wood nymph Minghao to leave just yet. "Don't leave me alone." He catches his tone taking a slight whining turn.

Minghao effortlessly settles himself on a large branch maybe one story up off the ground, easily squatting down on top of it. He gazes down at Mingyu with that same unamused expression as before. It only lasts for a moment though because suddenly he's scaling the tree again, until he disappears from view in the foliage, sans the faint glowing of his tattoos.

"You think I'd leave a stranger to roam through my home?" his voice rings out from above.

Mingyu huffs a little, forgetting for a bit that he's not dealing with his best friend Minghao, because this feels like one of their standard pushing buttons matches. "What makes you think I wouldn't just run away?"

"You could. But you were terrified of me and there are _far_ more horrifying things roaming out there." There's a rustling of leaves and branches above him, but Minghao's words still ring out clearly.

Mingyu's pout falters a bit and he's suddenly hyper aware of everything around him, of how he can only see maybe twenty feet out before the forest is engulfed in darkness, even with the pulsating glowing thingamabobs.

Something plummets from the sky and crashes into the ground with a loud thud, causing a strangled screaming sound to escape his lips as he jumps and stumbles. He can hear the all too familiar giggle of Minghao from above him and when he finally manages to open his eyes, he notices some sort of mango-like fruit near his feet.

A few more pieces fall, this time his body only jerking in surprise as opposed to screeching in terror. Minghao easily jumps his way down as well (Mingyu mentally yells out, 'parkour!' as he hops from branch to branch) and gathers up the fallen fruit in his arms.

With his bare hands, Minghao rips the outer skin of the fruit off to reveals a bright pink flesh inside. It's visibly juicy and looks like something straight out of a cartoon but the sweet smell alone has Mingyu salivating.

As Minghao takes a large bite, Mingyu watches him intently, entranced by the way some of the juice runs down his chin as he lazily licks at his lips. It feels a little weird and he doesn't know why.

Suddenly Minghao tosses a fruit at him, sloppily catching it with his delayed reaction as he's snapped out of his haze. Mingyu tries to open it with any air of coolness; he digs his dull fingernails into the thick husk and tries to rip it back but he ends up struggling to even pierce it.

He expects the other to laugh at him or roll his eyes, but his face is neutral as he takes the fruit back and easily peels it open before handing it back over. The pink juice runs over the edges and drips down along the back of Mingyu's hands, sticky and warm which is a bit unpleasant. But the smell is so nice and he really is starving after practice, so he digs in with abandon, the flesh perfectly ripe. It reminds him of something like rambutan or lychee, sweet and tropical and so delicious. He's devouring it before he realizes and only when he comes up for air does he realize Minghao is watching him, now smirking a little bit.

Mingyu wipes at his mouth with his shoulder, staining his shirt but not really caring much. Shuffling around the other fruit in his arms, Minghao takes the half eaten fruit from him and peels the rest of it before holding it to his lips, waiting for him to eat. It wouldn't have been an odd gesture had this been the two of them in the normal universe, but this isn't his Minghao, his best friend, and yet this Minghao is still feeding him by his own hand and looking at him expectantly, as if it were a normal occurrence.

So Mingyu bites and eats, hoping the pink of the fruit masks the flushed heat he can sense in his cheeks.

Minghao crafts a makeshift bag from some large leaves and stuffs it full with the rest of the fruit before he takes off into the darkness, looking back at Mingyu in a silent way of beckoning him on.

And Mingyu does. 

He follows him for a long time, his body weary and his mind on overdrive because there are creepily large insects crawling about and strange, unnatural sounds coming from every which way. He does his best to keep up with Minghao for two reasons: he doesn't want to get left behind and if anything suddenly pops out, he'd rather be near the spear wielding wood nymph.

They finally come to a treehouse of sorts and Mingyu is as curious as he is amazed by the craftsmanship of it all. It looks like something out of a fairy tale, all whimsical and vine-covered and homey. When Minghao takes him inside, he notes that the other must live alone because all there is is a small hammock and a tiny, short table.

Mingyu is so exhausted by the time they climb up inside that he doesn't have the energy to properly take it all in. Minghao must notice the way his eyelids keep drooping and his body sways like a vine because he all but pushes the taller towards the hammock until he falls into it, face first.

Mingyu manages to turn himself around and he sees Minghao's back as he meddles about with something in his hands but eventually, he gives in to sleep.

\---

When he wakes, it's because of the obnoxious sunlight streaming in through the glass-less windows of the tree hut and for a moment, Mingyu forgets where he is, groggily wondering if he's still dreaming. But then it slowly comes back to him, puzzle pieces slipping into place and his head whips around to spot the tattooed version of Minghao, who seems to be missing.

He notices that he feels a lot cleaner than he did before he passed out. His skin isn't sweaty or sticky with fruit juices; it's clean and soft now and when he brings his hands to his face, he smells a hint of something floral. He wonders if this Minghao cleaned him up while he slept, a thought that makes his insides warm and fuzzy.

With a groan, he rolls out of the hammock and stretches his arms upwards, bones cracking and popping in the most satisfying way. The floor is warm from the sunlight and it dawns on him that he must have been here for _hours_ already and he's suddenly mortified at the thought of how much time must have passed back home. Was it the same amount? Has he been missing for an entire night? Are the others panicking over his whereabouts?

Even though he doesn't know the way, he knows he has to get back and barrels out of the treehouse, stumbling down the branches as he ungracefully descends from the tree. He barely turns on his heels before he's met face-to-face with wood nymph Minghao, who appears to be carrying an assortment of other strange fruit in his improvised bag slung across his chest.

Minghao almost smiles at him but it falls away when he really looks at Mingyu. Maybe it’s his frenzied expression.

"I need to get back. To my home," Mingyu rushes out with a puff of air. Minghao's eyes narrow and the temporary softness Mingyu thought he had seen before is completely gone.

"I didn't say I was letting you go."

Mingyu didn’t realize he was being kept captive, especially with how Minghao had been hand-feeding him, letting him sleep in his home, and even cleaning him up. So with an adrenaline-induced rush of confidence, he indirectly tries to call his bluff.

"Please. Can you take me back to where you found me? I need to get back, my... my family will be worried about me."

With his face unchanging, Minghao stares at him before giving a short nod and dropping his fruit filled bag to the ground. He turns and quickly begins maneuvering his way through the jungle as Mingyu follows close behind.

They don't talk, and it shouldn't feel awkward because they hadn't talked much before this version of Minghao brought him back to his treehouse anyways, but Mingyu feels guilty all the same. He can't exactly pinpoint why.

It's much easier to make his way through the unknown land during daylight when it's bright with greens and splashes of oranges and blues, saturated and beautiful. Mingyu wishes he could stay just a bit longer to really take it all in properly.

But before he knows it, Minghao slows his feet to a stop and Mingyu can spot the cave he had crawled out of the previous night. Normally, goodbyes come naturally to him but with the looming reality that he probably won't ever see this version of Minghao ever again, it seems more difficult.

Minghao doesn't turn around and without thinking, Mingyu reaches out to gently squeeze his shoulder from behind. The touch causes his tattoos to glow blue, the hue more muted in the bright light of day.

"Thank you for your kindness and your help," Mingyu tells him in earnest, though he shifts a little awkwardly on his feet. Minghao finally looks at him. "I wish I could repay you somehow."

"You can," Minghao says quickly. Mingyu tilts his head, listening. "Another time, when we meet again."

Mingyu smiles a little at this as Minghao clears his throat and looks away, the flickering of his tattoos deepening in color, the blue saturated and bright.

"You said we met before, so we will meet again. And you can return the favor then."

Mingyu nods and gives a mock salute, to which wood nymph Minghao simply looks at him oddly for. Before things can get too weird, Mingyu gives him a quick one-armed hug, which has the other freezing in his embrace, before he hurries to the cave's entrance.

"See you soon!" he calls out with one last look over his shoulder, the bare-chested version of his best friend watching him with something that might resemble a frown. He forces himself to look away and focus on the dirt covered ground before him.

When he emerges, he expects to find sunlight streaming into his room but he's met with darkness. To say he's confused is an understatement, and when he hears Vernon call out that the burgers have arrived, his mind takes him back to the previous night (or _this_ night, depending on how he looks at it).

Something like relief washes over him before he realizes he still needs to wash off his dirty hands and knees before making his way to the kitchen to eat with his members. He calls out that he'll be there in a moment before slipping into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He appears to be almost glowing, well rested, his skin dewy and looking soft to the touch. He pokes himself in the cheek with a muddy finger to confirm it’s smoothness.

As he washes the dirt away, he's hit with the same floral scent that he smelled when he first woke up in the hammock, and his mind wanders back to the Minghao that effortlessly climbed trees and fed him mystery fruit and had the most amazing glowing tattoos. He thinks of him shirtless, half-smiling when he saw him in the morning and something in Mingyu's gut flip flops around like a fish out of water.

When he emerges from the bathroom and enters the kitchen, the other three guys barely acknowledge his entrance and he's content to eat in silence, eyes constantly flicking to the door, anxiously awaiting the arrival of someone in particular.


	5. there's nothing to it

The three week comeback promotion time has finally ended, which leaves all the members to spend all hours of the day in the dance studios, being poked and prodded during costume fittings, discussing stage layouts and designs until their jaws and brains equally ache.

Personally, it's not one of Minghao's favorite periods in the cycle that is their career. He obviously isn't opposed to the long hours and hard work involved, those things have always come naturally to him as he's been performing since he was a young boy. But it is tiresome, especially coming off the back of all-nighters at radio shows, followed by a two hour nap before they're carted off to some TV station to perform at the ass-crack of dawn.

They're all a big mess of nerves and excitement and exhaustion and adrenaline, the thought of performing in front of thousands of screaming fans their number one driving force. Dokyeom and Seungkwan are currently (and deliriously) bouncing off the walls, belting out some SNSD song Minghao knows but can't place the name of. He himself is acting more sane, back propped up against the wall of the dance room, his legs splayed out in front of him as he fiddles around with his phone. He's busy scrolling through his Instagram feed when he gets a Kakao notif. It's from Mingyu (which makes little sense because he just saw the other two minutes ago). After glancing around the room, he realizes Mingyu's missing so he opens the message.

min9yunie : come get a snack with me~

Minghao lets out a huff of laugh, silently cursing his best friend for not asking him before he took off or, better yet, just bringing him a snack back. But despite his limbs feeling heavy, he's in a light, pleasant mood so he decides to follow Mingyu's instructions.

He wanders down the hall towards the back door of the building and through the sliver of glass inset in it, he sees Mingyu's form shuffling about outside. The sun is beating down on his still sweaty skin, causing it to glisten in a way that’s nearly pretty. Minghao pushes it open and is greeted with a wave of heat.

"God, about time," the taller sighs, wiping off his damp brow before adjusting the cap on his head. "It's hot as balls out here."

"Yeah, so you should've waited inside. Idiot," Minghao replies fondly, smacking the brim of Mingyu's cap down and earning a whine from him. His hand falls to Mingyu's shoulder and he keeps it there for a long moment as they start walking towards the convenience store. The fact that Mingyu’s shirt is damp with sweat doesn't bother him, nor does the radiating heat of the skin beneath it.

Once they’re inside the air conditioned store, they split up to divide and conquer. Minghao gets them both cold, refreshing bottled tea and he spots Mingyu rummaging through the ice cream bin, humming along to the radio being played quietly inside. There's no doubt in his mind that his best friend is digging to the bottom of the freezer for the coldest treats, a method he always utilizes even if he regrets it every time when he ends up with a brain freeze two seconds into devouring it.

Mingyu pays and Minghao says nothing. He'll get it next time, just like they always do. They have such a routine between the two of them that most things go unspoken. It feels very comfortable and easy, almost domestic. Minghao likes it more than he thinks maybe he should. It isn't a big deal, it would be common between any best friends that spend as much time together as they do. But he still loves it so much, it makes him smile unexpectedly, just like is he now as Mingyu presents him with the watermelon flavored ice bar he enjoys. Minghao isn't one for cold foods most of the time, not even ice cream, but it's hot enough out that it sounds nice, and he does appreciate this flavor in particular.

Despite the heat, they sit side by side on a bench outside the shop, covered by the shade of the awning above them. There's a light breeze which feels nice and un-sticks his tank top from the way it clings to the moisture on his torso. Mingyu is slouched over with his impossibly long legs stretched out in front of him. He'd trip someone if anyone comes walking by, but this part of the neighborhood is pretty deserted at this time of day during the week.

The fruit shaped bar is sweet and cold, but it begins to melt as soon as it hits his lips. Minghao zones out for a bit before sounds from Mingyu catch his attention.

He must have gotten something chocolate, the rich brown color dribbling down his fingers and smeared on his lips as he hunches forward to avoid the melting ice cream dripping onto his shorts. Minghao snorts at the sight as he continues easily eating away at his own treat.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"Did you grab one from the bottom like you always do?"

"Of course! I guess they just stocked them though," Mingyu pouts, licking over his lips and then at his fingertips. Minghao is more endeared than disgusted, enough that he reaches his free hand to the back of Mingyu's neck, gently massaging the skin there as the other messily tries to inhale what is left of his half-melted snack.

His fingers are still nimbly rubbing at the nape of his neck when he feels Mingyu's head turn and look at him. 

"Do you believe that there could be, like... other universes?"

Minghao blinks over at him and he tries to ignore how his stomach does a funny flip. "What now?"

"Other universes. Like other versions of yourself, doing other things, living another life."

Minghao does his best to mask his expression, shoving the remainder of his iced snack in his mouth as an excuse to not speak more than a mumbled 'I don't know'.

"I think there are. It's a nice thought, that even if things aren't how you want them to be here maybe they are better somewhere else." 

Minghao looks at him then, eyebrows drawn together. 

"I mean, that's not to say I'm not happy with my life here. Obviously I am. But maybe another me is a doctor saving people's lives or... or is madly in love or something else, I don't know."

Minghao finishes off his ice cream with a few chomps, shuddering at the coldness that spreads down into the nerves of his teeth. He tosses the stick in their garbage bag and pulls out a napkin. He distracts himself from thinking too much by pulling Mingyu's mess of a hand into his own and beginning to clean it off. Mingyu gawks at him for a moment, surprised.

"There are definitely different version of ourselves out there," he finally states, his eyes trained on the spaces between Mingyu's fingers, rubbing at the same patch of skin multiple times. "But I wouldn't think too much about it because this universe's Mingyu is pretty good. Maybe not a doctor, and maybe not head over heels in love yet, but given the chance, I wouldn't change him."

Minghao feels warm again and he tries to mentally blame it on the wind dying out. But when his eyes finally flicker up and he sees how Mingyu is looking at him, all soft gaze and gentle smile, his cheeks pink from the heat and bits of chocolate stuck in the corners of his mouth... Minghao is struck with something so overwhelming that he freezes entirely.

"I hope we have each other in all those other universes too." Mingyu's voice is so sweet, his lisp more pronounced than normal because of the low volume he speaks at. Minghao's chest clenches and he clears his throat a little before forcing himself to look back at Mingyu's hand, scrubbing the rest of it clean.

"Of course we do. We managed to find each other in this one, even though we were born in completely different countries and probably never would have met otherwise. So we'll always find one another."

Mingyu lets out a small giggle, turning his head and knocking his skull against Minghao's; it gets a small 'ouch' out of him before they both are a giggling mess and Minghao feels light and happy, sugary sweet scents of melon and chocolate tickling his nose.

The rest of the day flies by. They're in the practice room all night, the occasional member pulled out for various fittings and consultations. Minghao gets pulled out to try on one of their performance jackets, another prince-esque theme that is supposed to pay homage to some of their previous concerts. He quite likes the cut and look of it; it's a black almost suede-like material, adorned with various silver studs and tassels but not enough to make it overly costume-y. It fits like a glove too and their stylist is more than happy with how it looks on him. He wishes to take it home if for nothing more than a brief photoshoot but he knows that won't be allowed no matter how much he begs. So he settles for a few quick photos of himself in the mirror, saving them away for a day when he gets permission to post them.

By the time the vans get them home, it's nearly 3AM. Naturally, most of the guys are dead on their feet, shuffling off to their respective dorms with murmurs of good night and lazily slung arms around shoulders. Minghao unintentionally finds himself beside a staggering and yawning Mingyu, who nearly walks right into a door-frame, but is saved by Minghao's quick reflexes.

When he lets go of Mingyu's shirt, he pats him on the back. "Go wash up before the others all beat you to it." Mingyu sleepily nods, a small smile on his lips before he stumbles his way down the hall to the bathroom. Jun and Seungcheol zoom past Minghao and struggle to push between each other to get inside, but the three manage to all fit before the door slams shut. Minghao chuckles before making his way to his shared room, shedding his sweaty tank top as he enters.

His mind languidly drifts as he tosses the soiled shirt into the hamper and walks to the wardrobe to pull out sleeping clothes for when he gets the chance to wash up. Upon opening its doors, he's reminded of the conversation he shared earlier with his roommate. His fingers flutter around the hangers of his and Mingyu's clothes, their pieces mixed between together so much that sometimes it will take him a moment to recall if an item is his or not.

He thinks of Mingyu and the multiple versions of him: the woodland prince on horseback, the odd candyman... he wonders what other kinds of Mingyu are out there. Maybe a doctor, yeah, the kind that grins charmingly and has his patients all swooning for him. There are probably multiple renditions of him that are in love. Married, maybe with kids. Caught up in a turbulent forbidden love affair with someone unexpected. Perhaps painfully pining after someone he knows he could never have, somebody unattainable.

Minghao smiles almost bitterly.

Call it curiosity or stupidity, Minghao is pulled by something stronger than his own iron will as he makes the almost familiar crawl into wardrobe. He barrels ahead without a second thought, forgetting that he's currently shirtless and physically exhausted.

If he thinks about it seriously, he doesn’t know why he’s so intrigued by this unexpectedly random though. But he wonders what Mingyu is like when he’s in love. He’s already such an affectionate, warm, happy person… how would love change him? What would it bring out of him?

He'll just find the adaptation of Mingyu in whatever world he crawls into and somehow find out if he's in love and then... and then, well, he doesn't know. But he wants to see it. For whatever reason, he needs to see how Mingyu is when he's in love. 

It's curiosity. 

Or stupidity.

The tunnel comes to an end and he hops out on a cold stone floor. There are torches lining the hall and he can see down both ends of the hallway. He begins walking towards his left and is greeted by a loud, bone rattling roar. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard before but it’s enough to have him stumbling on his feet and quickly turning around. 

His fight-or-flight response tells him to bolt back into the tunnel but, dumbly, he doesn’t. Instead he hurries down the other end of the hallway and spots a spiral staircase ahead. Blindly, he follows the steps upwards, still a little shaky from whatever that sound happened to come from. 

He isn't sure what he expects to find, but when he comes to a large locked wooden door, he aggressively tries to open it. He blames it on his now jumbled nerves.

Slightly annoyed, he runs his hand back through his hair and his fingers brush on something metal: a bobby pin he had slid in to hold some of his hair back while they practiced. He never would have thought that the one time Jun jokingly locked himself and a bunch of their iPhones in one of the bedrooms would be training for a moment like this. But the practice picking a lock seems like it might come in handy.

It takes a few minutes but he manages to pop the lock open and he grins to himself, though it dawns on him that he has no idea what is on the other side of the threshold, let alone if it's Mingyu. For all he knows, it could be another thing that will roar and deafen him. Despite his initial fear, he’s always been for a little bit of adventure and risk.

With reckless abandon, he pushes the heavy wooden door open and takes a step inside. The room is clearly lived in but neatly organized. There's a painting easel near one of the open-aired windows that immediately catches Minghao's eye. A half-finished piece sits on it, blue and green colors prominent and as he approaches it, he realizes it's the exact scene he can see from the window it’s beside. Lush rolling hills, expansive blue sky, and... nothing else.

There's a small dresser tucked against the wall and a large four-poster bed covered in countless pillows and fluffy looking blankets. Along the walls, various paintings are hung, but they all depict the same scenery: green hills and blue sky. Minghao approaches the bed and inspects one of the finished paintings closely until he notices the almost sheer skirt around the bottom bed frame flutter. He stills and watches it from the corner of his eye and when it suddenly moves again, he quickly falls to his knees and presses his cheek to the stone floor to look under it.

Something, or rather someone, lets out a small yelp and through his messy bangs, it takes Minghao a moment to realize that the curve of the nose he sees and the stubby, chubby fingers covering eyes that, of course, belong to Mingyu.

"Come out," he coaxes, his voice much gentler than he had been intending. The frightened Mingyu peeks out from behind his hand and peers at him. Minghao catches a glimpse at his outfit, something deep purple and silky looking, definitely luxurious. It doesn't fit with his surroundings. "I'm not going to hurt you."

This feels almost natural now, assuring a carbon copy of his best friend that doesn't know who he is in the slightest. So he's kinder and calmer than he was the first time, scooting back and sitting upright as a way of silently inviting the other to come out.

Which he does. Slowly and hesitantly. 

Mingyu looks downright terrified, staring at him wide-eyed and bottom lip sucked into his mouth. His attire is definitely expensive and reminds Minghao of royalty.

"Why are you half-naked?" Mingyu asks in a whisper and Minghao's face is suddenly blooming red. Yeah, it's only Mingyu, but _this_ Mingyu has no idea who the hell he is. He's just some stranger, some half nude stranger, who barged into his castle bedroom or something.

"Um. I lost my shirt."

"Did the dragon destroy it?"

"Dragon?" Minghao blinks at him, perplexed. Mingyu is still staring wide-eyed, his face unchanging. _So that’s what the roaring was?_ Christ, it’s a good thing he bolted the other way. "Right, yeah. It burned off while I was... attacking it."

Mingyu smiles suddenly, scooting forward and closer to Minghao, who remains unmoving. This Mingyu looks somehow a little different, like he's been sick and cooped up inside for far too long. He lacks a certain brightness, but he's still blinding when he grins. And he's incredibly beautiful. Minghao clears his throat as the other gazes at him intently.

"I knew someone would rescue me one day!"

The dots begin to connect and Minghao has to bite back a laugh at the thought of this universe possessing some sort of bachelor in distress, a prince waiting to be saved by a knight in shining armor.

Mingyu's smile suddenly falls and his eyebrows knit together in a look that resembles confusion. "Where is your sword? And your armor?"

Oh god, how is he gonna talk his way out of this one?

"I don't have either of those," he states honestly, his mind speeding for some kind of further explanation. 

Mingyu's head tilts in the puppy-like way that seems to carry itself along with every version of him. 

"I used magic to defeat it." He _has_ been told plenty of times about his resemblance to a fairy.

"You're a wizard?" Thoughts of Harry Potter and Dumbledore fly through his head and he can't accept that, let alone show any proof that he is one. But suddenly he remembers something.

"No. I'm a prince. I borrowed some magic to come and rescue you." There is a tingly sensation within him and he doesn't know why, but it only grows stronger when Mingyu smiles at him again, leaning forward on his palms.

"Really? You're a prince too?" Assumption confirmed. With a new rush of confidence, Minghao nods before whipping out his phone from the pocket of his pants. "What's that?"

"It's a magical device," he explains, unable to hold back a small giggle. For whatever reason, Mingyu giggles too and Minghao smiles at him as he flips through his pictures for the ones he took earlier that day: the ones of him in their stage costume, the jacket that screams 'I am a ridiculously wealthy and sharp dressed prince'.

Mingyu peers at the picture, his hand coming up to grasp the wrist that is supporting the phone. Minghao watches his face closely, the way his eyes narrow then relax, his lips forming a small 'o' before settling into a light smile.

"You look even more handsome in your magic mirror." He's not sure if it's a compliment or an insult but he takes it all the same, lowering his hand back down. Mingyu seems to realize he's touching him and pulls back suddenly, his ears tinting pink.

"How long have you been up here?"

"I don't know exactly. I didn't start keeping track until after a while," he admits sheepishly, a silly and foolish thing that is somehow so typically Mingyu. "But over five years." Minghao must be fail at hiding his surprise because Mingyu waves his hand at him. "It was worth the wait, though! You're here finally."

"Me?" Truthfully, Mingyu was probably waiting for anyone to arrive and set him free. Not Minghao in particular.

"Yes, you. You're somehow... familiar. Like I knew you'd be the one all along."

Minghao's insides light up on fire and he has to swallow down the feeling in his throat. Mingyu is so comfortable and cozy, of course he is. Minghao knows who he is. It’s another version of him, yeah, t’s still him though. But to hear that Mingyu somehow feels even an inkling of the same is remarkable. Maybe the infinite copies of the two of them always do find one another.

He suddenly remembers his whole reasoning for crawling into the wardrobe again, the question heavy on his tongue now that he's able to actually ask about it. It seems so random and personal to be asking someone who doesn't really know you, even if you know them and they seem to somehow feel at ease around you.

"Mingyu..."

"You know my name?" Minghao sucks in a breath before thinking swiftly and pulling up his phone again, finding Mingyu's Kakao profile. The photo is a selfie of him pouting cutely. Minghao had poked fun at him about it for days.

"Magic mirror," he explains simply before showing the picture to the other. Captured Mingyu seems embarrassed at the photograph of himself and it's all too cute. "My name is Minghao."

"Minghao," Mingyu echoes, finally tearing his eyes from the phone to look up at him. "Minghao and Mingyu."

"MM," Minghao says wryly. Mingyu just grins innocently. "Do you... are you..."

His nervousness is palpable because Mingyu seems to be reveling in it, biting back a laugh and grinning at him widely. "Do you want to kiss me?" he asks Minghao suddenly.

There's a long silence and sure, it isn't the exact question he had planned on asking but it gets across some general idea, right? If Mingyu was in love with someone else, surely he wouldn’t be asking such a ridiculous question. 

"Do _you_ want to kiss _me_?" But Mingyu can be the one to answer that for sure.

"Duh," the taller says before letting his eyes fall shut and leaning forward, his lips pursed in a way that is comical. He looks like someone who has never kissed before, or even seen anyone actually kiss. And Minghao realizes maybe he hasn't, what with being held prisoner by a dragon for years and all.

He tries not to dwell on it too much because this Mingyu isn't _his_ Mingyu. There's no potential best friend fallout or awful tension amongst the members. It's another form of him that clearly _wants_ to kiss him. And Minghao is curious about kissing him too, admittedly. It’s a little distressing to accept.

Now, Minghao's no kissing expert either. He's only kissed a handful of people, most of which were fleeting and rushed presses of lips (from his younger years when he had more time and opportunities to be romantic with anyone. A time before he knew Mingyu at all). But he's confident that he is more skilled in the art of kissing than the boy before him with his eyes cutely squeezed shut. So Minghao is gentle and delicate as he cups his hand along Mingyu's cheek. He is slow to pull him closer and he brushes his thumb along the other's lips in attempts to get his mouth to relax. It works, as embarrassingly intimate as the gesture is.

He doesn't know what he was expecting when their lips finally meet. His inherent love of movies would lead him to believe that there would be fireworks and electricity, that the two of them would melt together in a heap of unresolved sexual tension and years of pent up frustration. 

But it's not like that at all.

Instead, it's sweet. It's pleasant and warm, it's a little sloppy but, Minghao chuckles internally, most things with Mingyu are. It's so nice and, as weird as it sounds to him when he thinks it, it feels like home. It's as if he's kissed Mingyu a thousand times before, which he knows is ridiculous because they've never done anything like this before.

At least not in Minghao's own universe.

The rest of them, well, who knows. Maybe he and Mingyu are always together, in one way or another. Friends, colleagues, lovers. Maybe there are countless replicas of them that have kissed and held one another and explored each other completely. The thought leaves Minghao feeling flustered and a bit guilty, so he breaks the kiss finally.

Mingyu's eyes are still shut but the apples of his cheeks are dusted pink and his lips are slightly parted and wet. He looks breathtaking and Minghao allows himself the time to admire him.

"Wow," Mingyu finally says with a long sigh, his eyes gradually fluttering open. Minghao giggles and how he wishes he could stay here just for a bit longer and experience more of... whatever this would be between them.

He wonders if this Mingyu will ever meet a Minghao that actually calls this universe home. It's a confusing and bittersweet thought, one that he tries to shake off as he forces himself to stand.

"You're free to leave now." He offers Mingyu a hand, to which he simply frowns at it.

"Why do you say that as if I am leaving without you?"

Minghao lets out a shaky sigh and pushes his hand out further, insistent on Mingyu taking it.

"I need to return to my... kingdom."

"Then I will come with you!"

"You can't," Minghao states quickly, his voice firm. Mingyu's face distorts into something like hurt and he hates the guilt that fills him up. "But we will meet again, I promise. And the next time I see you, I won't leave you again."

Mingyu is quiet for a long moment before he finally takes Minghao's hand and stands.

"Do you promise?" The taller's voice is quiet and it reminds Minghao of nights they spent up together, talking about dreams and hopes and their futures.

"I swear. I won't leave you again." And he means it. After this, there will be no more wardrobe adventures. He'll stay in his pocket of the space/time continuum alongside his very own Mingyu and he won't venture off again.

Mingyu seems to accept this, albeit reluctantly. Minghao lets go of his hand and he doesn't know how to properly say goodbye in this type of situation but Mingyu seems so have some ideas of his own when he gingerly grabs his forearm.

"Can you kiss me once more?"

Minghao's breath catches in his throat at hearing Mingyu’s request. And because he's a selfish fool, he nods dumbly and pulls the other's body flush against his own before giving him a drawn out, heartfelt kiss goodbye.

Minghao keeps rubbing his lips together as he makes his way back through the dark tunnel and finally stumbles down onto the floor of his shared bedroom. He doesn't know how much time has passed before the door opens and Mingyu, the real and number one Mingyu, enters, towel drying his freshly washed hair.

"Bathroom's free if you wanna beat Woozi Hyung and Vernon to it," he says nonchalantly.

Minghao lets out a sound to confirm he heard what the other said, but he remains unmoving as he watches Mingyu plop down on his bed and apply lip balm. 

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mingyu’s voice is light and joking as he smacks his lips together twice, capping the chapstick.

“No, just a dragon,” he replies. Mingyu squints at him but he lets out a small laugh.

“Yongpallie,” Mingyu says in a sing-songy voice. 

Minghao forces himself to look away from his mouth and up to his eyes before he lets himself smile in return.


	6. there is no life i know

Post concert highs are the best. The preparation period is exhausting, at times frustrating, and the pre-concert jitters are bittersweet in their own way. But once a show wraps, well, there is nothing quite like that feeling.

Everyone is buzzing and chattering, Soonyoung's loud laughter ringing out over everyone else. Seungcheol is dancing obnoxiously in the corner, shirtless and covered in a thin layer of sweat, which has Vernon and Jihoon in tears. The room is alive with bodies springing around, animated and pumped.

While most of the guys are making laps around the room to burn off their hyperactive energy, Mingyu is perched on the sofa in the middle of it all. Wonwoo is stretched out on it too, his head on the opposite armrest and shoeless (and a little smelly) feet only inches from Mingyu's lap.

"You alright, hyung?" he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice. Wonwoo's eyes are closed but he smiles, so Mingyu knows he's not asleep.

"Peachy."

Mingyu is about to compliment him on his performance this evening when suddenly a sweaty back blocks his view of his hyung. Minghao picks up Wonwoo's feet carefully before he sits down beside Mingyu, settling the elder's feet on his lap gently.

"You worked hard tonight, hyung," Minghao tells the nearly asleep member. Wonwoo's smile grows as he gently pokes his foot at Minghao's stomach.

"You too, my wonderful dongsaeng."

"What about me?" Mingyu asks with a light voice, suddenly craving attention and praise. Somehow hearing Minghao compliment the other has him eager to receive recognition himself.

Minghao sighs, feigning annoyance with the way he looks at Mingyu over the rim of his glasses. Mingyu knows it's fake because of the way his eyes crinkle in their corners and, well, the fact that he knows the other male all too well.

"You worked hard too, you buffoon." It's said with affection as he reaches a hand up to ruffle Mingyu's damp and messy hair.

"Eh, you did okay," Wonwoo chimes in, which earns him a hard smack on the shin and has the three of them dissolving into a heap of playful slaps and giggles.

\---

By the time they all return home, the adrenaline has worn off and the majority of the guys manage to wash up and crawl into bed. Mingyu has half the mind to do the same, he's already showered and cleaned up for the night, but his mind feels wide awake.

He's alone for the moment, Minghao having to wait for the second round of bathroom entry before he could wash up; he had been too busy goofing off with the rest of the performance team members when they arrived at the dorm to secure himself first dibs.

Mingyu racks his mind for ideas on how to blow off some steam in the limited time he has before Minghao will enter and most likely want to pass out right away. He sits up and looks around the room for anything to exhaust his mind and help lull him to sleep. Reading will definitely have him nodding off but it sounds boring in the moment. He won't be able to last an entire movie and it's more fun to watch with someone else anyway. He could sketch but he doesn't feel particularly inspired to draw anything in the moment.

His eyes land on the wardrobe and before his mind has a chance to catch up with why it happens, his stomach flutters. Truthfully, it's a dumb idea because tomorrow there is another show and they have to be up relatively early for a second round of soundcheck. And while he remembers time didn't really pass here when he was off wherever he had magically been transported to, it's still risky.

Mingyu wouldn't honestly consider himself a brave person but he feels suddenly courageous and daring as he crawls off his bed and pads over to the wardrobe. He doesn't know where he'll end up this time and he wonders briefly if he will meet another form of Minghao again, his chest tightening at the thought before he's up onto his knees and heading into darkness.

As he nears the light at the end of the tunnel, he hears music thumping through the walls, bassy and catchy, the kind of beat that would make anyone want to dance. It’s muffled enough though that he can’t make out any words.

He stops at the end of what appears to be the entrance of a shoot of some kind, laundry or garbage, the thought disgusting him a little. He’s checking his hands for any possible trash sludge when he hears a group of voices and freezes, slouching back into the darkness of the tunnel.

"What an idiot," one male voice says.

"Let’s just leave him here and we'll come get him before we head out," another adds, his tone lower and gruffer.

Mingyu stays still as he hears them drop something heavy to the ground. As the two men pass by again, he notes that one of them has a long (obviously) fake tail attached to the back of his black ensemble and the other is wearing some long bright red cape that instantly reminds him of Superman.

Once their voices fade, Mingyu pokes his head out and checks to make sure the coast is clear. He notices a young man (the other two must have dropped him off) slumped against the wall, passed out and most likely drunk given his appearance. He's dressed in a rather cool looking knight outfit, complete with chainmail and a silver chest plate. Mingyu peers over the railing before him and down below, he can hear distant conversations mingled with the constant flow of music. He spots a group of girls run by below him, all dressed in various costumes.

He must be at some sort of dress-up party.

Glancing down at his own attire of black t-shirt and red and black gym shorts, he chews at his lip wondering what he could pass as. The man on the ground lets out a small groan and Mingyu looks over at him with concern before his face slowly breaks into a smile.

\---

Minghao is so busy aggressively ruffling his hair dry with a towel that he almost misses what happens as he steps into the doorway of his room.

But there is no denying what he just saw: his roommate, Mingyu, crawling into their wardrobe and disappearing, just as he had done a handful of times before.

He's somewhere between shocked and nervous at the sight of Mingyu's legs retreating into the darkness and he doesn't know what he should do. Does he sit and wait for the other to return? Does he leave the room and act as if he saw nothing?

It's also exciting to think about though, that maybe Mingyu has had similar experiences on his own. It spawns a dozen questions in his mind: is it his first time in there? Has he gone in before? Has he met other versions of Minghao, the way that he has met different forms of Mingyu?

Blood is pumping in his ears as he tosses the towel onto his bed and scampers into the wardrobe, hastily grabbing the first jacket he touches when his mind reminds him that for all he knows, he could end up in a tundra. He doesn't want to deal with that in shorts and a tank top.

When he slips out the other end of the tunnel, he takes in his surroundings slowly: the music, the fancily decorated hallway, the intricate bannister and staircase. And then he notices a young man passed out in the corner. His thin long sleeved shirt is messily untucked and his hair is disheveled; given his snoring and untidy appearance, Minghao assumes he's drunk.

Maybe he's walked into a party.

He shrugs on the jacket he had grabbed, a black leather one that is thankfully his and not Mingyu's (otherwise he would be swimming in it). His outfit is not fitting for a party at all, but at least it's all black and he hopes he won't stick out too much.

Carefully, he makes his way down the stairs, where he crosses paths with a few different clusters of chatting party-goers, all of them dressed in elaborate costumes. He spots a Dracula wannabe, a police officer, an angel, some sort of zombie like creature... Minghao glances down at himself and panics, wondering what bogus costume idea he can spew off if anyone asks him.

He's jostled from his thoughts when someone bumps into him and spills a bit of some liquid on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Oh sorry, man," the guy tells him through slurred words. Minghao waves him off when he tries to pat off the wetness (that smells like something fruity).

He maneuvers himself to the the other end of the hallway so he's no longer swimming upstream, following a couple forward into what appears to be a large hall or ballroom. The lights are very dim and it's hard to make out specific details, partly due to the lighting and partly because nearly everyone seems to be decked out in make-up or wearing some sort of mask/hat that conceals half their face.

Minghao's never really been fond of large parties like this, where everyone is pressed together and it's hot and sweaty and too intrusive. It doesn't help that the leather jacket on him is unbearably warm in a stuffy room like this. But he has to stick it out and find Mingyu.

It occurs to him that Mingyu might not even be here at all. For all he knows, he could have crawled into some other dimension and when he himself entered, the magical wardrobe decided to send him off to someplace else. A trickle of disappointment makes it way through him at the thought.

But he knows there's a chance that the real Mingyu _could_ be here and he can't pass up on that opportunity if it's true. If he isn't here, then there's bound to be another version of Mingyu anyways, if his track record is any indicator. While he did make a vow to himself to never venture into the wardrobe again, this is its own special case.

The other should be easy to spot due to his excessive height and ability to always cause some sort of ruckus wherever he goes. Minghao tries to scan the two-story tall room but it's too dark where he's standing and there are columns blocking most of his view. He accidentally breaks up a pair of girls possibly on the brink of making out as he pushes his way between them, apologizing quietly when one of them jabs at him with the glittery wand in her hand.

The room resembles something out of a fairy tale, tall pillars encircling the round dance floor. Tucked along the back wall is a large DJ booth and sound system setup, manned by someone in large sunglasses and a black bucket hat. There's an array of changing colored lights shooting up from behind the booth that seem to be synchronized with the music being pumped out of the large speakers.

Minghao finally finds his way to one of the pillars, pressing his shoulder into the sturdy material for support before he pushes up onto his tiptoes and looks around as best he can.

It's mainly just a mass of swaying, sweaty bodies, some arms outstretched to the skies and others wrapped around the waist of another. Minghao's eyes flit around in attempts to spot anyone that may resemble his best friend but it's all in vain. Even if Mingyu is out there, it's like a real life adaption of 'Where's Waldo?'; there are too many tall, good looking, brunette guys out there.

Not giving up yet, he looks for another advantage point to inspect the crowd a bit more easily. To the left of the DJ booth, there's a long wall of faintly glowing blue that catches his eye. The horde of people seems thinner back in that corner so with a deep breath, he begins weaving his way around the edge of the dance floor, trying to avoid the center which is the most packed and congested.

A few people make eyes at him, some with looks of curiosity and others with something a bit more... suggestive. Minghao has been fairly confident in himself for years now but it's still makes him little uneasy to be so aware of someone eyeing you like a piece of meat.

Once he's free from the crowd, he lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, airing out his jacket as he flaps it open. His spirits are lifted instantly when he realizes what he thought was a wall is, well, still a wall, but one constructed of an extremely large fish tank. The height is taller than him and it's filled with so many different fish, he couldn't count them all if he tried. He recognizes a few, colorful tropical types that flitter around in the water, dancing between drifting arms of beautiful sea plants. A small smile tugs itself onto Minghao's face as he watches a pair play a game of aquatic tag.

As his gaze zigzags along the water, something gleaming catches his eye. It makes him squint and blink away the suddenly brightness, as if he's just looked up into the sun. When his vision is able to focus again, he realizes that it's coming from the other side of the tank, off something sleek and shiny, like a mirror.

The reflective surface moves around, sending bursts of blinding light Minghao's way again, this time thankfully blocked by his hand. The surface suddenly triples in size and if it hadn't been for his perfectly placed hand stopping the light, he might have missed the all too familiar face of Mingyu.

The other hasn't seemed to notice him yet, too captivated in watching the fish swim and race around the water, his chubby-fingered hand pressed to the glass like a child at the aquarium.

Minghao's heart leaps into his throat because he found him, it's Mingyu. He doesn't know what he should say or how he should approach the topic of hey, we're both in some alternate universe together and I should maybe let you know I kissed a different rendition of you before?

But the excitement quickly dissipates as he realizes Mingyu is wearing what appears to be a knight costume and if his memory serves him right, he knows his roommate doesn’t own such an ensemble. Which leads him to only one conclusion: this isn't his best friend and group member Mingyu. It's just another alternate form of him, like the ones he has met before.

There is an overwhelming temptation to approach him, it's something he can't explain that draws him in to the other. But Minghao made a promise to himself not to interact with any other versions of him again. The last time was confusing enough, an awakening of strange feelings and thoughts inside him that he hadn't properly sorted through yet.

He makes the decision to leave but when he looks up one last time, he realizes Mingyu has noticed him and is staring at him through the artificially cerulean water. Mingyu's face softens when it seems to register that they are both gazing at one another now and his hand that had been pressed to the glass lessens its pressure in order to wave his fingers a little, like he's saying hello.

Minghao can't help the small laugh that bubbles out of him and he hates the way his eyes have a mind of their own, trailing along the messy way Mingyu's hair is pushed back off his forehead and noticing how the silver plates of his costume seem to make him broader, bigger.

He knows he should bolt but he feels like he's been put on pause and there's not enough time for him to run before Mingyu is suddenly drifting down the wall of water until he emerges from the doorway at the end of it.

"Hi," Mingyu says breathlessly. His cheeks are tinted pink and his appearance reminds Minghao of his post-concert look: tired and sweaty, but bubbling with energy and flushed from excitement.

Minghao realizes then that the costume is a bit ill-fitting, the shoulders bulky and big despite Mingyu's relatively large size.

As if on cue, the music crossfades into something softer and slower. With a glance over his shoulder, Minghao notices how the crowd takes the musical hint and stops their jumping and body rolling for movements that ring a bit more sentimental and meaningful.

"Hi," he finally greets back. The room feels eerily quiet, only the soft, slow song filling its large space. Everyone else seems to be in their own world, eyes closed in contentment as they sway along with their partner; or gazes locked, forgetting about everything else around them. 

"I'm Mingyu."

"Yeah." It comes out before Minghao has a chance to catch himself, silently cursing his inability to play along with any kind of role. But Mingyu seems unfazed by it, grinning at him before taking a step closer. "I'm Minghao."

"Will you dance with me?"

The question catches him off-guard and he's filled with a sensation that he can’t easily identify. Slow dancing with his best friend? It sounds laughable at first because for all his love of dancing, the kind that involved no real ability (beyond not minding physical contact) has never been his thing.

Yet still, the thought of easily swaying about with his arms locked around Mingyu lights a small fire in him for reasons unknown. He blinks at the other's face, Mingyu’s eyes wide and lips parted in that expression he always has when he's waiting for someone to grant him permission.

"Okay," Minghao answers dumbly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket before he realizes he's gonna have to pull them out and offer them up. He feels so shamefully awkward and inexperienced, which is ridiculous when he thinks about all the nerve-wrecking and stressful things he's had to manage in his life.

Mingyu's beaming at him like he's just won the lottery and holds out a hand for him to take, which Minghao hesitantly does.

It dawns on him that he doesn't really know if the real Mingyu can slow dance well, or if at all. He's only ever seen him do it jokingly before, even in jest with Minghao himself, but the layer of humor and over-the-top-ness shadowed any proof of ability or lack thereof.

This Mingyu seems to have a clue as to what he's doing though, which shouldn't be that surprising. For all Minghao knows, he's a party hopping bachelor who uses his stupidly charming smile and stupidly handsome face and stupidly decent slow dancing abilities to win over various weak-willed party goers, like himself.

His palms feel heavy and sweaty resting on Mingyu's shoulders and he's all too aware of how the other's fingers curl into the leather of his jacket as they grip at his slim waist. Their chests aren't touching but it’s just by mere centimeters. This is easily the most intimately close he's ever felt to the other.

"Am I scaring you?" Mingyu asks him softly, though his voice is clear as day over the romantic song. Maybe due to their lack of personal space. His smile looks slightly sheepish, like he's worried. It tugs at Minghao's heartstrings.

"No. Not at all," he says quickly, shaking his head a little which causes his bangs to fall into his eyes. He removes a hand to brush them out of his line of vision but one of Mingyu's hands beats him to it, ever so gently swiping it back off his forehead. It's a touch that the two of them have exchanged countless times before but it somehow feels different this time. It's charged with another kind of energy.

There is some intense eye gazing going on and it reminds him of staring contest games which always end in bouts of laughter. But Minghao has no desire to laugh this time, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat and heart pounding like he's run a marathon. It comforts him a little that this version of Mingyu seems to be just as nervous, with the way he keeps pulling his lip in-between his teeth and sheepishly smiling with excessive eyelash fluttering. Tall tale signs of Mingyu-nerves, Minghao knows that much.

He wonders, briefly, if the other will try to kiss him and in turn, he wonders how he'll react. He'll want to return it, there's no doubt. But the guilt of wanting to kiss yet another copy of his best friend looms over his head like a raincloud.

It doesn't matter though because suddenly there's a heavy pressure on the toes of his left foot The pain surges up his leg and he realizes Mingyu's all but crushed his toes completely due to misstepping. Good to know this Mingyu is just as clumsy as the original.

"Fuck," Minghao lets out with a short, low groan. He squeezes his eyes shut while simultaneously curling his fingertips against the metal of Mingyu's armor.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry. Minghao, I'm so sorry," the other spews out, his body almost comically going back and forth between supporting Minghao's weight and bending down to examine his foot.

"'s fine," he grits out through his teeth, the desire to flick the other's forehead (hard) growing with each passing second. Once he's able to open his eyes and glare down at the black boots that all but crushed his toes into fine powder, Minghao notices something odd.

Despite his chainmail shirt, convincing armor breastplate and shoulders, and the refined design of his leather boots, Mingyu is wearing shorts. Black mesh shorts, to be more precise.

Minghao looks up at his face curiously, the searing pain in his foot dimming as he critically looks at the other's face.

"Why are you wearing gym shorts?"

Mingyu's face blossoms into a bright pink at the sudden question, his jaw going slack and eyes blinking. He's caught off guard and Minghao knows it, he knows this look just like he knows the thousands of other expressions his best friend has.

"I, um..."

In the peaceful, romantic ambiance of the ballroom, there's a sudden burst of music that Minghao recognizes as Red Velvet, the exact same song that is his Mingyu’s ringtone. And it's coming from this Mingyu's gym shorts' pocket.

"Mingyu?"

"Shit," the taller blurts out, fumbling for his phone and checking the screen. It's the same ridiculously expensive phone case his best friend has. "I'm sorry, I need to go. I'm really sorry."

Minghao is so stunned and his brain is lagging with processing the realization that this really is _his_ Mingyu, that he doesn't have a chance to say anything before Mingyu pulls his arms away and steps back. He's already out of arm's reach by the time he turns around again to call out, "I'm sorry about your foot!"

Minghao shakes himself from his daze, pushing himself through the couples stuck together like velcro. The music picks the perfect (note: _worst_ ) time to switch back to something loud and upbeat, pairs splitting apart to jump and thrash and scream-sing along to the words. Minghao gets a few elbows and hands to the face before he emerges on the other side, back near the entrance of the dance hall.

Mingyu is nowhere to be seen and he curses under his breath before sprinting up the stairs and down the hall, back towards the tunnel. His feet only slow when he spots someone crouched over the drunk guy he saw when he first arrived.

There before him is Mingyu, clumsily removing the knight costume and knocking himself on the side of the head as he pulls off the shoulder armor. He's careful about setting it back down beside the man on the floor, who still appears to be sleeping.

"Mingyu," he breathes out and the other freezes mid-motion, breastplate tangling in the air.

Slowly, Mingyu looks over his shoulder at him, like a terrified puppy waiting to be scolded.

Words escape him in the moment so Minghao takes a moment to properly walk over to him, removing the metal piece from his hands and gently laying it on the floor for him.

"Boots," he commands. Mingyu blinks at him. "Take off the boots, he'll need his shoes back when he goes home."

Mingyu sheepishly removes the shoes but doesn't seem to ask how Minghao knows that they aren't his. Minghao holds his elbow to help him balance, his one-footed hopping sloppy and a little wobbly.

It's weird, he can feel the tension, but he doesn't know if Mingyu realizes it as much as he does. And he doesn't know how to ask. How do you casually ask someone if they've ventured into various alternate universes found in the depths of your shared wardrobe, just like you have?

"I really do need to leave," Mingyu awkwardly tells him, shifting his weight back and forth on his now bare feet. His shoulders are slouched and curled inward, a habit that the group collectively has worked on breaking him out of. They had mostly succeeded but Mingyu still reverts to the posture sometimes when he feels extremely shy or uncomfortable. Minghao wonders which one it is right now.

"So do I," he replies. Mingyu's chewing on his lip so aggressively, Minghao worries it will start bleeding.

"By all means." Mingyu holds out his hand, as if telling the other to go first. Except his arms are pointed at the staircase, which is the opposite direction of the tunnel they both need to crawl through. Minghao cocks his head to the side and doesn't attempt to hide his smile. Mingyu must really not know.

"Alright," he agrees, but he ignores Mingyu's gesture and goes the opposite way, brushing past so their shoulders touch.

He hops into the vent and sits on his knees, head craned down so it doesn't smash into the metal ceiling. He turns himself around and peers out at Mingyu, who seems stunned and paler than usual.

"Let's head back home, yeah?"


	7. living there, you'll be free

Mingyu can't comprehend exactly what he's feeling. It's a complicated concoction of slight horror, burning embarrassment, and utter confusion. It had been odd when Minghao hadn't questioned why he was ditching his outfit, let alone why he was returning the costume to some guy passed out on the ground, but his mind could stretch for an explanation if he really tried.

But with Minghao perched in the entrance of the shoot, an act that would be seen odd to anyone who didn't know that it was actually Mingyu's way back to his original home world, his mind is racing for any other motives besides the one that is clearly the most obvious.

"C'mon, you idiot," Minghao laughs lightly, though his face is a slight pink hue and his eyes keep flickering away from Mingyu's, like he's shy or something. 

"Minghao?" Mingyu's voice breaks a little and he feels cemented in his place, feet unmoving.

"What? Will you come on already?" His tone is sterner, though there is still a hint of playfulness to it. Minghao’s gaze finally settles on the other and his expression softens. "It's really me, I promise." Minghao extends his arm and hand outward towards him.

Mingyu lets out a breath that relieves some of the tightness in his chest and even though his head is still spinning, he manages to shuffle over to the small hole in the wall and take the other's hand.

They crawl back silently, Minghao leading the way until they're brushing along silk blend shirts and suede jackets, the familiar scent of home filling their nostrils.

When Mingyu hops out of the wardrobe, Minghao is sitting on his bed, hands gripping his knees as he stares at the floor. It's awkward, but not the same kind of awkward the pair have experienced in the past. 

"Was it always really you?" Mingyu finally asks, slowly making his way to his own bed and sitting down. Though there’s a large gap of space between them, they face one another. It's still dark out and there are some sounds of movement out in the hall, but Mingyu's mind is fully occupied.

His phone rings out from his pocket again and when he checks the screen, he sees a string of messages from Seungcheol asking where he and Minghao ran off to. Other members have chimed in, including Seungkwan who whines about the two of them having fun without everyone else. 

Minghao’s phone buzzes on his bed too. He takes a moment to send a message to the group chat letting their leader know they are both back in their room.

Minghao shrugs off his leather jacket once he drops his phone back down. "What do you mean was it ‘always really me’?"

Mingyu looks over the other’s bare arms and remembers glowing blue tattoos. "In there... I met you every time." 

Minghao chews on his lip in thought before speaking again. 

Their conversation drags on for almost an hour: comparing experiences and stories, answering each other's questions about what the various versions of each other were like. By the end of it, the air is much more comfortable, being broken in with laughter and smiles. Mingyu feels warm inside at the thought that they have this shared experience that nobody else will ever understand or know about. It's unique to them and only them. It's more than special.

"Why did you ask me to dance?" Minghao asks suddenly, as Mingyu's laughter fades from hearing about himself with a top hat and walking cane. He gulps a little, eyes diverting to his bedspread.

"I don't know. We were at a party, that's what you do? Everyone else was doing it," he explains weakly. Minghao hums and he doesn't have the nerve to look up at his face to read his expression. He does hear the other clear his throat though.

"I have a confession to make."

Mingyu finally drags his eyes up and Minghao looks mildly distressed, exemplified by the way he runs his fingers back through his hair over and over again. "What is it?" Mingyu's voice gets partially lost somewhere in his throat but he knows the other still heard him. Minghao finally looks up at him with his brow is furrowed.

"I kissed you once." 

_Oh_.

"Huh?"

Minghao lets out a long, shaky breath, tossing his hair back once more for good measure before steeling his gaze. "I kissed you while I was in there. Well, I kissed the version of you I met. But it was still... you. And it was like, an actual real kiss."

"Was it crazy candyman me?" He doesn't know why he asks. Well, he does, he is curious and a little mortified at the thought of Minghao doing that to the oddest persona of himself.

Thankfully Minghao's face crumples into laughter after a long beat, his torso wilting forward to his knees as he shakes with his giggles. It sets off Mingyu too, grinning and giggling, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand.

"No, definitely not. It... when I rescued you the last time, you asked me to."

"Okay, well, to reiterate, you didn't _actually_ save me..."

"I set you free from that prison room you were locked in forever!"

"But you didn't kill any dragons! I probably tried to escape after you left and as I was leaving, it swooped in and ate me alive!"

They're both laughing again, despite the morbidity of the topic. Mingyu has to wipe tears from his eyes with the back of his hand and Minghao is clutching at his stomach like he's in pain. He might be.

Once they both return to normal breathing patterns, Mingyu finds himself seriously considering the idea that Minghao felt comfortable enough to kiss him in a way that wasn't joking or friendly. The realization has his chest tightening and he licks over his lips subconsciously before he realizes it.

"Was it weird? Kissing me?" he tentatively wonders aloud.

Minghao stares at him, his smile slipping. But he doesn't appear as nervous or uncomfortable anymore.

"No."

It's only one word but it's enough for Mingyu to push himself off his bed and pad over to the other, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. Down the hall, he can hear Seungcheol call out a collective good night to everyone but neither of them join in on the choruses of replies.

He plops down beside Minghao a bit clumsily, leaving just enough space between them for him to place his hand down. Minghao's posture straightens up, his eyes flitting around from Mingyu's face, to his hand, to his own lap.

"I asked you to dance because I wanted to dance with you," he admits, cheeks feeling warm.

"We dance together all the time." Mingyu shoots him a pointed look but it's not very serious.

"You know what I mean."

Minghao's hand slides on top of his own, slim digits finding the spaces between his before he links their fingers together. They've held hands countless times before but Mingyu's heart still leaps in his chest, performing cartwheels and backflips.

"It was wrong of me to kiss you." Mingyu's gut plummets and his fingers squeeze at his best friend’s hand.

"Why?" he asks, voice soft, afraid of the explanation.

"Because it wasn't really you. In my mind, it was partially you, and that's why I did it. But it's not fair or right to you, to the _real_ you here now."

"Wait, you kissed me because you thought of... the real me?" Minghao huffs a little but gives a curt nod. "Oh."

"Yeah. See? It was wrong."

"No! No, I don't mind. I mean... you said I wanted you to, right? Damsel in distress me wanted a kiss. So, it's fine. If I wanted you to, then what's the problem? There isn't one. I was more than okay with it." He realizes he’s babbling and promptly clenches his jaw shut.

Minghao gives him a questioning look but doesn't say anything, lightly drumming his thumb along the back of Mingyu's hand. They are quiet for a long moment and Mingyu reluctantly lets out a yawn into his shoulder. He doesn't know how to wrap up this conversation or if it's even finished, but Minghao thankfully speaks up.

"Are you okay with it? You here, now."

Mingyu's mind is fuzzy from the slight exhaustion setting in. "Okay with what?"

Minghao's adam apple visibly bobs in his throat. "Could I kiss you? Now?"

Everything seems to fade out in the distance, his ears blocked with cotton and his vision slightly blurry except for Minghao's face. His wide eyes and messy tousled hair, his slightly parted lips and the length of his neck. The word ‘beautiful’ keeps popping up in Mingyu’s mind and for once, he lets the thought stay and linger.

Mingyu nods dumbly. "Okay."

It's brief and sweet, their lips a little off-center from one another but god, it has Mingyu's insides erupting like fireworks and he squeezes onto Minghao's hand so hard, he's retrospectively afraid he may have broken his fingers. But the other male makes no complaints. After their lips gradually part, their breathing is shaky even though it was the shortest, gentlest of kisses.

Mingyu wants to go in for another but his stupid brain has him spewing out words before he can.

"So who's a better kisser? Dragon prisoner me or the real thing?"

Minghao smacks the side of his head lightly but they both end up laughing. Gazing at his widely smiling face, Mingyu can't help but lean in and boldly steal another kiss, one that's longer and warmer and has Minghao curling his free hand into his hair as if he wants to anchor him down.

And Mingyu doesn't mind it, not one bit. It's better than anything any other alternate universe could offer him.

\---

The Korean concert series wraps and their tour abroad finally begins. The boys jetset around the globe and it’s as exciting and invigorating as ever. Mingyu states one night that it’s the best tour they’ve had and others are quick to agree, though he knows it isn’t for all the same reasons he has in mind.

Traveling the world with all of his best friends is a magical experience in itself but there is something exceptional about sharing it with Minghao this time around. Mingyu never knew excessive hand-holding, stolen glances, and secret kisses could make such a difference in his life. But they definitely do. 

When they finally find themselves settled back home, suitcases half unpacked and talks of their next comeback occupying every conversation, Mingyu doesn’t feel as stressed as he has in the past. He happily hums to himself as he pulls out the laundry bag from inside his suitcase and empties it into the hamper. Minghao is across from him on the floor, carefully pulling out his meticulously folded clothes, piece by piece.

Mingyu opts to grab all of his relatively clean items with one swoop of his arms, shirts crumpled and jeans dragging on the floor as he stands. Minghao rolls his eyes but Mingyu can spot the hint of a smile on his face.

He dumps the clothes on his bed and steps to the wardrobe, opening it up and yanking out some hangers. He’s more thoughtful about how he hangs his items, which Minghao comments is pointless considering he’s already wrinkled his button-up shirts. But Mingyu simply sticks out his tongue at him and carries on with his process.

Their clothing is still intermixed inside the closet, which isn’t a big deal and Mingyu doesn’t even consider when he slips a handful of hangers onto the bar a bit carelessly. One of his silky shirts slips off while he works and when he reaches down for it, his fingers bump into a hard wooden surface.

Blinking, Mingyu extends his arm further until he’s able to press his palm flat along the hard material. He pushes hangers out of the way to create a small space and what he sees inside has him dumbfounded.

His hand is planted along the back of the wardrobe, the shading of the wood just the same as the rest of the piece. There’s no darkness, no tunnel or passageway to crawl through. There isn’t any meowing or disembodied music; it’s just a wood backing like anyone would expect to find inside.

“What is it?” Minghao’s voice rings out. Mingyu realizes he’s been standing still for a bit too long. “Don’t tell me you want to go back in.”

He traces his fingers along the wood before dropping his hand and he considers it for a moment, how fun it might be to experience another new world that he otherwise would never get to see. Despite how unnerving it was at times, it was always an adventure. The most memorable parts weren’t where he ended up though; it was always who he got to meet.

Mingyu drops his hand and picks up the fallen shirt, hanging it properly before he gently closes the wardrobe doors. Turning around, he leans against it and smiles down at Minghao.

“No, never. Everything is back in order.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was a lot of fun to write, considering how self-indulgent it was to incorporate some of my favorite movies/worlds into it. i truly hope the person who submitted this prompt is happy with what i was able to come up with.
> 
> thank you for reading!! :)


End file.
